Fred and Hermione Drabbles
by drcjsnider
Summary: Drabbles about Fred and Hermione inspired by Granger Twins 100 LJ Community. The chapters are not written in any specific order or sequence. Warning: Some chapters might contain DH Spoilers and others might be AU. Part of the 'Fred's Not Dead Universe'
1. Nerves

**Nerves**

Most of the Order members who had assembled to escort Harry from Privet Drive stood in the kitchen of the Burrow chatting or grabbing a last minute bite before they left on the assignment. The room was so crowded with bodies, however, Hermione simply stood outside the door leaning against the wall in the hallway. Across from her leaned Fred. He gave her a wink when he noticed her looking at him.

"You nervous, Granger?" he asked.

"No," she lied. "Are you?"

"A little."

Hermione gaped at him. She never expected Fred to be nervous about anything, and even if he was nervous she figured he would not admit it. "Really?"

He nodded slowly. "But you know, a good luck kiss would probably make me feel a whole lot better," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Would you like me to call your mother over here? I'm sure she'd be delighted to kiss you farewell."

Fred pouted slightly. "Luv, don't be like that. I just figured that this might be my last opportunity to kiss the brightest witch of her generation. Any day now, Ron's going to pull his head out of his arse and before I can say 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' backwards, three times fast, while standing on my head, you'll be his girl and I'll have lost my only chance for a kiss."

Flattered, Hermione looked into the kitchen and saw that Ron was bent over a map, studying it intently with Tonks. Turning back to Fred, she reached across the hall, grabbed him by his t-shirt, and pulled his face down to hers. "It would be a real tragedy if I had to admit to my children later in life, how I was within mere inches of snogging you and let the chance slip through my fingers," she teased. Standing on her tiptoes, Hermione pressed her lips to Fred's for several seconds.

When she released him, they both returned to leaning against their respective walls, slightly out of breath.

"So if Ron doesn't pull his head out of his arse soon, do you think we could do that again?" Fred asked, sounding hopeful.

Hermione giggled, no longer nervous about the upcoming mission. "Stranger things have happen," she flirted, deciding for the first time since fifth year that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if her and Ron never became a couple.

The End

Notes: All the characters belong to JKR.


	2. Linguistics

**Linguistics**

Hermione sat on the couch reading _The Medieval Origins of Transfiguration_. Fred sat next to her.

"Stroganoff."

Hermione did not look up.

"Spelunking."

Hermione continued to read.

"Persnickety."

Nothing.

"Oyster."

She sniffed.

"Poodle."

She glanced up at Fred, her lips pursed slightly.

"Innuendo."

Her upper lip twitched.

"Coagulate."

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head.

"Canoodle."

She smiled at him. "You are impossible."

Fred gave her a huge grin. "I told you I could make you smile just by saying funny sounding words. You now owe me 20 kisses."

"I'm beginning to like losing bets to you," Hermione giggled.


	3. Chaos

**Chaos**

Hermione could barely get the door open. She had to shove her upper body against it before it budged. She was instantly alert. The room was in shambles. Toys were strewn around the kitchen, dirty dishes lay piled in the sink, and various articles of clothing littered the floor.

"Fred?" she called out cautiously.

When there was no answer, she drew her wand.

"Fred?" she called again, slowly making her way into the den.

Things were even worse in this room. Small scraps of paper lay all over the table and chairs. A cup of liquid had been spilled on the floor, making a bright red stain on the carpet. There was even a potted plant that had been overturned and dirty footprints tracked around the room.

Hermione's hand gripped her wand even tighter. The house was eerily quiet. It was NEVER this quiet. Even before the children, Fred always had some project underway that sent things whizzing in the air or an experiment that whirled loudly through the halls. The noise level, moreover, had increased exponentially with each child that had been added to the household.

Walking into the living room, Hermione stopped in her tracks. Her entire family was sprawled out across the room unmoving. Her five-year-old was curled up asleep in a chair. The three-year-old twins rested on the floor snoring lightly. And Fred lay on the couch with the baby sleeping on his chest.

Letting out a deep breath, Hermione sat in a chair close to Fred and brushed the hair off his forehead. A small smile curled his lips as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Tough day?" Hermione whispered.

"You have no idea," Fred replied quietly. "Sorry about the mess. I'll clean it up later."

Hermione nodded and grinned at her husband of seven years. Although she had always thought of herself as a woman of discipline and order, she couldn't help but be grateful for the excitement and chaos that Fred had brought into her life.


	4. NonVerbal Communication

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Fred and George sat around the Burrow's kitchen table. While the boys chatted about Quidditch, Hermione read the latest policy statements published by the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. All of a sudden, she felt someone kick her foot. Glancing up, she noticed Fred looking at her. She raised her eyebrow at him.

Fred motioned toward the backyard with his head.

Looking around the table to see if anyone else had noticed, she frowned at him and slowly shook her head in the negative.

Fred stuck out his bottom lip in pout.

Hermione rolled her eyes before turning back to her reading.

Just a few seconds later, Fred kicked her again.

This time she raised both her eyebrows at him.

He jerked his head toward the backyard.

'No,' she mouthed silently.

He bit his bottom lip and looked at her with sad puppy-dog eyes.

Hermione grinned slightly; however, she still shook her head no.

Fred crossed his arms across his chest, leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs so that they were pressed against Hermione's.

When she tried to move away from him, he simply shifted in his chair to stay in contact with her. She pushed back from the table so that he could no longer touch her and glared at him with narrowed eyes.

He gave her an innocent smile then puckered his lips as if he were blowing her a kiss.

Hermione opened her eyes wide. He rarely flirted with her so directly, especially not in front of his brothers. After checking to make sure none of the other people at the table were paying attention to them, she licked her upper lip – in what she hoped was a seductive way – then winked at him.

Pressing one hand against his chest dramatically, he sucked in a deep breath. He then shot another hopeful look toward the backyard.

Hermione gave him an amused smile, nodded briefly, and quickly moved outside. She went around to the side of the house and rested against the wall.

Less than a minute letter, Fred was standing in front of her, a silly grin on his face. Leaning in for a kiss, he whispered, "Merlin, I love talking to you."


	5. Prove It All Night

**Prove It All Night**

Hermione stepped off the dance floor with Ron, who hurried off to go get them a couple of butterbeers. She was making her way over to Harry, when someone grabbed her by the arm pulled her toward a dark corner of Burrow's yard.

"What was that all about?" Fred asked in a harsher tone than she'd ever heard him use before.

"What was what all about?" she responded, genuinely confused.

"You and Ron..."

"We were dancing," she replied cautiously, not certain what answer he was expecting.

"Six songs in a row?"

"You counted?"

"Hell right I counted. Everyone knows the _Dancing Code_."

"_Dancing Code_?" Hermione wondered for a minute if Fred was setting her up for some elaborate joke. "You're making this up, aren't you?"

"I thought you were supposed to be the brightest witch of your age," Fred mocked, shaking his head. "The _Dancing Code_ is a well established standard for what how many dances you share with someone means. One dance means you're friends, two dances means you're friends but dateless. Three dances means you're friends, dateless, and slightly drunk."

Hermione was intrigued. "What's four, five, and six dances mean?"

"Seriously, you don't know?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid that I'm woefully ignorant about this subject," she admitted.

"Four dances means you're strangers but want to hook up. Five dances means you're strangers and you are about ready to shag in the alley, bathroom, or darkest corner of whatever location you happen to be. And six dances," Fred blushed and seemed unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes, Fred?" Hermione moved in closer to him laying one hand on his arm gently. "What does six dances mean?"

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Six dances means you're in love."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she blushed too. "I guess that is about right," she admitted.

A look of pain crossed Fred's face and he moved to step away, but Hermione gripped his arm tightly, refusing to allow him to go. "Only, I am not in love with the person with whom I was dancing."

Fred blinked a couple of times before the lazy grin that he so often sported was once again in evidence. "If that is so, Ms. Granger, than you really shouldn't mislead people by breaking the _Dancing Code_."

"Well, Mr. Weasley, you could have always cut in and laid claim to several dances yourself," Hermione flirted.

"That would have gone over smashingly," Fred replied. Hermione and he had decided to keep their attraction for each other and their relationship quiet until Ron, Harry, and she returned from hunting Horcruxes. "What would George, or Mum, or Ron have said if I'd cut in and spent the evening dancing with you?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side and bit her bottom lip. "They probably would have said something along the lines of: 'Hermione looks very graceful in comparison to Fred.'"

Fred's grin widened as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. "You've definitely been spending way too much time with me, Ms. Granger."

"I've been working real hard at it," she winked back.

"Did you mean it before?"

She knew immediately he was talking about her profession of love. She contemplated denying it; after all he hadn't said anything to her about love. But when she looked into his eyes, Hermione realized that she didn't want to play it safe with him. She wanted to prove her feelings so that he would never doubt them, never question her again. With a tiny nod, she gave him a quick kiss. "If we weren't surrounded by your family, I'd give you a kiss that would prove it all night," she whispered.

Before she had time to be embarrassed by her confession, Fred had Apparated them away from the Bill and Fleur's wedding reception and up to his room. With a sly grin, he backed her up against the door. "I'm calling your bluff, Ms. Granger."

Wrapping her arms around Fred's neck, Hermione kissed him again, longer this time. "It wasn't a bluff, Mr. Weasley. I'm ready to prove it all to you."

AN: Inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song – Prove It All Night.


	6. The Best Laid Plans

**The Best Laid Plans**

Fred Weasley had pulled Hermione Granger into the backroom of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes to show her a new product he had developed. This had become a fairly regular occurrence during the last three weeks.

Fred's determination to astound Hermione with his ingenuity had developed after she'd let slip one Friday that magical innovation was a huge turn on for her. That same evening, he'd dragged her away from the Leaky Cauldron and back to the Wheezes' workshop where he'd showed her a ring that made the hand that it was worn on and whatever that hand touched invisible. Hermione had been so impressed that they'd ended up snogging for the rest of the evening. If tonight's invention was as spectacular as any of the last four Fred had demonstrated, Hermione figured she'd be lucky to make back to her flat with her knickers still on.

"Prepare to be awed, luv," Fred smirked at her.

Hermione grinned down at him from her favorite perch on top his workbench.

Pulling out his wand, Fred lightly tapped a black rope and said clearly, "Hermione."

The rope began to move of its own accord, slithering toward the brown-haired witch, and then wrapping itself around her until she could no longer move her arms.

"Kinky," she giggled. "However, the magic doesn't seem very complex and I can't imagine that it has many practical purposes."

"Just wait for it," he told her.

Suddenly, the rope began to get warm and then started to buzz lightly against her skin. "Oh my," Hermione gasped, wiggling in pleasure. "This is delightful."

"You may now tell me, 'Fred, you are genius,'" he informed her, grinning broadly.

Before she could reply, however, the rope was moving again. This time it wrapped itself around Fred, binding his back to Hermione's. "So… the rope wraps itself around whoever's name you say?"

"Apparently, although I'd intended it to hold just one person at a time."

"Did you build in a way to release it?" Hermione asked, her voice still calm.

"Of course. I'm not daft you know."

"How does the release part work?" she prompted him.

Fred was silent for several seconds before responding. "The person who charmed the rope can unwrap it manually."

"Manually? How interesting," Hermione commented, her voice starting to rise an octave. "What if the person who charmed the rope has managed to get his arms bound to his body and he can't manually unwind it?"

"There is an excellent possibility that I didn't foresee this situation," he reluctantly admitted.

"In a bit of a hurry to show off your magical talents were you?" Hermione asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"I don't remember you complaining about my productivity the other night," Fred reminded her. "In fact, I didn't hear much of anything except you moaning, 'Oh, Fred' over and over."

Hermione might have blushed had she not been seething about their current situation. "When is George supposed to be home?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"I told him to make himself scarce since I thought we'd be enjoying a romantic evening together," he informed her.

Just then the rope began to buzz and grow warm again. Hermione and Fred shifted against each other, both forgetting their argument and thoroughly enjoying the sensations being tied together were eliciting.

"Sweet Merlin," Hermione panted, as she felt a familiar tingling start between her legs.

"Fuck," Fred growled, as he started to get hard.

Rubbing her back against Fred's, Hermione began to writhe about, until she was on the edge of an orgasm.

Fred, meanwhile, twisted against the rope and Hermione seeking to bring himself off.

Soon Hermione was crying out, bucking her bum back against Fred.

The sound of her enjoyment sent Fred over the edge, causing him to call out her name.

Once their heart rates slowed back to normal, Fred apologized to Hermione for getting them stuck in the workroom.

"I forgive you," she replied, still a little breathless.

"Next time," he told her. "I'm going to take you out on a proper date. We'll go to a restaurant, maybe grab a coffee at that new bookshop in Diagon Alley, and if you show the least bit of interest, I'll invite you back to my flat for a nightcap."

"That sounds lovely," Hermione told him truthfully. "But could you bring the rope just in case?"

AN: Drabble for Buzzy. Her prompt was: FW/HG, WWW, Fred tries to impress Hermione with a new product.


	7. Promise Me

**Promise Me**

Fred had pulled Hermione into an empty alcove. Her back was up against the wall and his hands were gripping her arms tightly.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," he demanded.

"Isn't that my line," Hermione teased, trying to stay brave and not give into her fears about the approaching battle.

Fred shook his head and gave her a crooked smile. "No, your line is: 'Fred, you are so handsome and charming, of course I'll do whatever you ask of me.'"

At any other time, Hermione might have replied by pushing him in the chest and informing him that there was _nothing_ charming about acting like a Neanderthal. She could tell by looking in his eyes, however, that he was only speaking out of concern.

"You don't have to worry," she told him, trying to be comforting. "I can't even remember the last time I did something stupid."

"Besides agreeing to go out with me, you mean," he smiled sadly, his hands now running up and down her arms.

Hermione leaned in closer to him. She wanted to rest against his chest, but held off for fear of breaking down. "I'm quite certain that dating you has been one of my more brilliant moves. How else would I be able to keep up with the developments in the practical joke industry?"

"Which everyone knows are some of the most important questions on the NEWTs," Fred joked quietly.

Not able to stand the distance anymore, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder. "I have to stay beside Harry," she informed him, hoping that her explanation would make up for her lack of promise.

"I know," he replied, as one of his hands rubbed circles on her back and the other tugged gently on her hair. "I would never ask you to abandon him, but you don't have to sacrifice yourself…"

"You don't know that, Fred," she interrupted. Pulling away slightly, she wanted to make him understand that during the upcoming fight her only concern would be getting Harry to Voldemort, everything else had to take second place. "No one can be sure what they might find themselves having to do."

Fred closed his eyes, a look a pain flashing quickly across his face. "Promise me," he whispered.

"I can't," she replied, lifting her arms to place them around his neck and kissing his jaw lightly.

Gripping her hips, Fred pulled her tightly against him and hid his face on her shoulder, murmuring words that she could not make out.

Hermione wanted to sob. Life could be so unfair. They had only recently discovered each other, they had just begun to explore what it would mean to be together, and now it all felt so fleeting, so transitory. She felt his lips on her neck, marking her, branding her. "Oh, Fred," she moaned, half pleading for comfort and half begging forgiveness.

He abruptly took at step back, breaking all contact. "What can you promise me, Hermione?" he asked, sounding desperate.

Reaching out to grab his hand, holding it tight, even when he flinched, Hermione was momentarily at a loss. "I don't… I—I'm not sure," she stuttered.

Fred squeezed her hand. "I promise that I'll meet you here after the battle is over, if there is any possible way it can be accomplished," he told her earnestly.

Smiling up at him gratefully, thankful that he given her something to grasp onto, Hermione echoed his pledge. "Yes, after Voldemort has been defeated, if it is in my power, I promise to meet you back here. I will then demand a full and proper recitation of exactly how you feel about me."

"I can live for that," Fred assured her with a grin. He squeezed her hand one more time, before turning to go join George in their assignment to guard one of the secret entrances to Hogwarts.


	8. A Christmas Engagement

**A Christmas Engagement**

Hermione stood in the kitchen of the Burrow taking large gulps from her wine glass and staring at the ring on her left hand.

"Pretty cheap." 

"Shut up, Fred," she replied huffily to the red-headed man who had just entered the room. "It is a lovely ring and more than adequate in size."

"I meant that it is pretty cheap to give your girlfriend an engagement ring as a Christmas present," he explained. It sounded harsher than his typical jabs at her boyfriend because it wasn't accompanied by his usual easy going smile. "It's gift double-dipping."

"What a remarkably cynical way to see the world," Hermione informed him in a clipped tone.

"I don't know," Fred commented, taking a step closer to the brown-eyed girl. "Some people might argue that it is cynical to ask a woman to marry you in front of her family and friends, makes it much harder for her to refuse."

"What would you know about it?" Hermione asked defensively. "When is the last time you even dated a woman for more than three weeks?" 

Fred gave her a rather inscrutable look, his mouth quirked up slightly. "There is a reason for that. I don't date girls for long periods of time because I don't want them to think they have a future with me."

"Have none of them struck your fancy?" Hermione was genuinely curious. Fred had dated some of the most attractive witches in London, but none of them ever lasted long. Molly was constantly complaining that Fred was too picky.

"Their alright," he replied, moving closer to her. "The problem is that I'm in love with someone. And until she's completely out of reach, I just can't make myself consider anyone else seriously." 

Hermione's eyes grew round in surprise. Six months ago, she had acknowledged to herself being attracted to Fred. In response to these feelings, she had broken up with Ron and a few weeks later asked Fred out to dinner and Muggle movie. He'd turned her down gently, but Hermione had been left in a deep funk until she and Ernie MacMillan had started seeing each other. Now, after dating less than five months, they were engaged to be married.

"Who is she," Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

Fred took another step towards her. She could now feel his breath on her cheek. He reached out and gently stroked her jaw. "It's you." 

Hermione's mouth dropped open slightly. Recovering quickly, she placed both her hands on his chest and gave him a hard shove. "You giant prat!"

A look of shock on his face, Fred stumbled backwards. "Hermione?"

"You are telling me now? After I've been dating Ernie for months, moments after he asked me to marry him? Now you are telling me you love me?"

Fred had the grace to blush. "Well, yea… you see…"

"I don't want to hear it," Hermione spat. "I never thought you were a selfish, self-serving git before, but I am rapidly revising my opinion." Her eyes were flashing, her cheeks were flushed, and Fred though she looked more attractive than he'd ever seen her before. 

She went to move past him and head back into living room, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up against him. "Look, I was a right idiot. I see that now. But at the time I thought it was best." 

"At what time?" she growled.

"When you asked me out after your break-up with Ron, I thought you were just looking for a rebound date and I didn't want to be that. I wanted more. Therefore, I was thrilled when MacMillan came along because I assumed you go out with him a couple of times before moving on. But he's been more persistent that I ever gave him credit for. I've been in agony these last few months, Hermione, angry at myself for not grabbing on to you when I had a chance. When I watched him propose today, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I'm attracted to you, I want to be with you, and I've never desire anything more." 

Pressed up against his chest, Hermione breathed deeply, trying to calm her pounding heart. "It is too late, Fred."

"It isn't," he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers.

-0-0-0- 

When Ernie walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later, he found his ring on the kitchen table alongside a note, which read: _Ernie, I'm sorry, but I must decline your proposal. I am not ready to get married or settle down. Please forgive me for telling you in a note, but I didn't want to embarrass you in front of the Weasleys. I'm going to spend the next week traveling around the continent, thinking about things. I'll Floo you when I return._ At the bottom of the note scrawled in a different hand was a postscript: _Next time you propose to a girl, don't double-dip!_


	9. Warm Me Up

**Warm Me Up**

Hermione Granger was cold. Ever since the war ended, she'd had a hard time warming up. During the first summer after Voldemort's defeat, while everyone else had enjoyed sunbathing or frolicking in shorts, Hermione had carried around a cardigan – wrapping up whenever even a hint of a breeze touched her shoulders. The winter had been even worse. She wore heavy sweaters, two layers of socks, and wrapped herself in a down-filled blanket when at home. Ron thought she was nutters, Harry just shook his head in disbelief, and Ginny went around casting _Finite Incantatem_ at Hermione's back, as if she were suffering from the effects of a really bad hex.

When spring arrived, Hermione huddled near the fire reading, while the Weasley's played Quidditch outside. Glancing out the window at the beautiful sunny day, she sighed deeply, wondering if she would ever feel warm again. She heard someone move behind her and looked up into the smiling face of Fred Weasley.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Still cold?" he asked.

She nodded in response.

"I think I have a solution."

"Really? Is it some new weather altering product you developed for the Wheezes?"

"Not exactly. What me to show you?"

Hermione nodded again.

Fred sat down behind her, pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

For the first time in a year, Hermione felt warm.


	10. Visual Memories

**Visual Memories**

Fred had been sitting on Hermione's couch for the last fifteen minutes. If they didn't leave soon, they would be late for Lee Jordon's and Lavender Brown's wedding. "Granger," he shouted. "Get out here already! We have to go!"

"Just five minutes," she shouted back.

Groaning, Fred flopped back on the couch. He was bored and had already thumbed through all of the magazines she had lying out. When he opened up her coffee table drawer to look for something more interesting than _Popular Potions for the Precocious _what he found instead was her photo album. As he glanced through it, he had to laugh at the Muggle pictures of her as a baby and toddler. Even then, her hair and been wild and uncontrollable.

About one-fourth of the way through the album, wizarding photos began to appear. Pictures of Ron, Harry, and Ginny dominated this section. There were also pictures of the Burrow, of Fred's mum and dad, of Order members, and of Hogwart's students and professors. The end of the album contained post-war photos. There were pictures of George behind the counter at the Wheezes, pictures of baby Teddy and Victoire, and over a dozen pictures of Harry's and Ginny's wedding.

Fred was suddenly struck by an observation. He quickly scanned through the album again and was shocked that he was correct -- there was not a single photograph of him in Hermione's collection. He and the bright, brown-eyed girl had been seriously dating since the war ended two year ago, yet not one picture of him was in her photo album.

Feeling a bit insecure, Fred crossed his arms over his chest, plastered a scowl on his face, and waited for his girlfriend to emerge from the bathroom.

The smile slid from Hermione's lips as soon as she saw Fred's countenance. "What?!" she demanded. "We aren't THAT late."

"Why isn't there a single photograph of me in your in album?"

"Huh?" she responded, clearly confused.

"I just looked through your picture album and there isn't one photo of me," he informed her, in a partly outraged, partly hurt tone.

Hermione blushed. "Oh you noticed."

"Damn straight I noticed, Granger. There are tons of pictures of Ron, Harry, and even Victor-sodding-Krum, yet not a single one of your current boyfriend. Perhaps you think I'm not attractive enough to put in your album. Perhaps you are ashamed to have visual evidence of our relationship," he declared angrily, sounding a bit out-of-control.

"Fred, calm down!" Hermione demanded. "Of course, I'm not ashamed of you. If I was, why would I be going to this wedding with you? Why would I have dating you for the last couple of years? It is hardly like I've attempted to hide you away in the dark corners of restaurants and bars whenever we go out."

"Well, there was that one time at the Leaky Cauldron," he reminded her.

"Only because you kept sticking your hand up my skirt and I didn't want anyone to see what you were up to!"

He stood and stalked toward her. "If you aren't ashamed of me, then explain the lack of photos."

She blushed again, but stood her ground. "There aren't any photos of you, because when I am in a room with you, I want to be holding you, or talking to you, or doing things with you. Not standing across from you observing your actions and documenting them with a camera. If I have several of pictures of Victor, it is only because he was more interesting to watch than to actually talk to or spend time with."

Fred grabbed a hold of Hermione's chin and gave her the smile he reserved for when he found something absolutely brilliant. "Maybe we should skip the wedding and spend the afternoon making more non-visual memories," he suggested with a grin.

Leaning in to him and brushing her lips against his, Hermione giggled. "First the wedding and then we'll come back to make the memories."


	11. The Crush

**The Crush**

"I need some advice, Granger."

Hermione raised both her eyebrows at this unusual circumstance. "You want advice from _me_?" she asked him.

He nodded, fervently.

"Alright," she replied, with just a bit of hesitation. Hermione wasn't uncomfortable giving advice – far from it actually. She enjoyed helping people with their problems and suggesting solutions to their situations. Hell, she had even offered _him_ advice before. Mind you, her advice to him was almost always ignored and fairly often laughed at. In fact, she could think of no time in their past where he had ever _requested_ advice from her. It made her a tad suspicious. "What do you need advice on?"

"A woman," he replied.

'Hell no,' she thought to herself. 'There is no way I am going to help him with woman problems.' "Why are you asking me? Why not ask Ginny or Fleur? They probably have a better idea of what typical women want than I do."

"Oh, I don't know," he responded with a grin. "I think you might have a bit more in common with this bird than Fleur or Ginny."

Hermione gave a deep sigh. "Fred, I want to help you, really I do, but you KNOW relationships are not my forte. I haven't even gone out on a date since Ron and I broke up eight months ago," she reminded him. 'Besides,' Hermione thought to herself, 'I have a little crush on you and don't want you to be attracting other women.'

"Pleeeeeease, Hermione," he pouted, in his adorably cute way. "I am really out of my league this time."

Sighing again, she finally agreed. "What can I help you with?"

"My problem is that this girl I am attracted too, doesn't take me seriously as a potential boyfriend. I can get her attention with some prank, but she is smart, serious, and industrious, so I'm not sure how to signal to her that my intentions are sincere."

"How do you typically ask girls out?" Hermione inquired; genuinely curious about how Fred normally approached witches he was attracted to.

He grinned. "I tell a little joke, give her a wink, and then just let my natural charm and good-looks convince her to go out on a date with me."

"But that hasn't worked with this girl?"

He shook his head sadly. "She rolls her eyes when I wink at her and appears immune to my charm."

Hermione shook her head, wondering briefly how _anyone_ could be immune to Fred Weasley's charm. "Perhaps she's not the girl for you," she told him gently.

"I worry about that myself, but I've been attracted to her for years and now that she is available, I really want to give it a shot."

"Why wasn't she available before," Hermione asked, a bit surprised by all the detail Fred was providing.

"She was pining after and then dating another bloke. However, they have been apart now for awhile so there should be no obstacles to us going out. Assuming, of course, that she is interested."

Although a large part of Hermione wanted to tell Fred to forget this witch and move on – preferably toward the brown-haired girl standing in front of him – she tried to put herself in the girl's shoes. "It could be that she would respond well to a more direct approach. Some girl's simply aren't used to having handsome, charming wizards flirting with them. Maybe she only appears to be not interested because she doesn't realize you are genuinely attracted in her."

Fred nodded in understanding. "So I should just go up to her and say something like: Hermione, I really like you and would love to take you out to dinner tonight."

Hermione's heart beat faster and she could not help but speculate on how wonderful it would feel if Fred actually were asking her out. "Yes, do it like that. Just make sure to use her name and not mine," she teased.

A broad grin spread across Fred's face. "What if she still resists?"

Cocking her head to the side, Hermione bit her lip as she thought. "I suppose you could always try admitting that you've fancied her for a long time. Telling her exactly what you like about her might work too. She would have to feel flattered by either of those admissions."

"Alright, at the first sign of resistance, I'll tell her about how I've been infatuated with her since my seventh year at Hogwarts. How I've long admired her intelligence, her determination, and her natural beauty, but that I never made a move since she was my brother's girl. Now that they are no longer dating, however, I'd really like for her to give me a chance."

"Your brother's girl?" Hermione was confused. Who in the world was he talking about? "Penelope Clearwater?"

"Who? Percy's former bird? Merlin, no! I am talking about Ron's old girl."

"Lavender Brown?" Hermione exclaimed, unable to hide the dislike in her voice.

"Granger, for being the brightest witch of your generation, you are surprisingly dense at times. Would anyone ever describe Lavender as smart and industrious?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes growing wide. If Fred wasn't talking about Lavender that meant he was talking about—"But you said she was beautiful!"

"You are," he replied with a big smile. "Hermione I've fancied you for ages, would you go out to dinner with me tonight?"

"You tricked me!" she exclaimed, blushing brightly. "You never needed my advice."

Stepping closer to her, Fred grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Of course I did. If you hadn't told me to just ask you out directly, I probably would have spent another six months teasing and pranking you."

She giggled. "Well, then I'm glad you came to me for guidance, because I'd love to go out to dinner with you tonight."

"Great!" Fred replied grinning broadly. "I need one more piece of advice, though."

"What's that?" smiling up at him.

"Where can I take a pretty girl for dinner that will leave her favorable inclined to see me again?"

Squeezing his hand back, Hermione told him truthfully, "As long as you are as sweet and direct with her at dinner, as you were when you asked her out, I don't think it really matters where you take her. She is going to want to see you again."


	12. Lost and Found

**Lost and Found**

Hermione sighed in relief after peering into the window of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and not catching sight of the twins. She was just going to sneak into the shop retrieve the item she had left behind the night before and then return to work without anyone being the wiser. At least, that was her plan.

The moment she tried to slip into the store, however, the charmed entry rug whistled and sang out, "Nice bum, toots!" The commotion caused George to pop his head up from behind a shelf he was restocking.

"Oi, Hermione," he called. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Blushing and mentally cursing herself, Hermione shook her head. "No, n- no," she stammered. "I'm just looking for something I left here yesterday when I stopped by to consult with Fred."

George nodded. "Lost and found is behind the counter," he informed her, before squatting back down to keep stocking the shelves.

Hermione's face got even redder. She really doubted that if anyone _had_ discovered the item she'd "lost" that they'd leave it behind the front counter, but she checked nevertheless. The lost and found box contained a couple of unmatched gloves, a stocking cap, a Muggle paperback, and a Hogwart's Prefect badge. It did NOT, however, have her missing item.

"Any luck?" George asked, walking toward the front of the store.

"No, I think I'll check in the back room though. I might have put it down in there."

"Sure. Yell if you need any help looking."

As Hermione made her way into the twins' work room, she was assaulted with images from the night before. She had stopped by the store to ask Fred a question about an experimental potion the Ministry was developing. However, just like their other recent _consultations_, talking had turned to snogging, which had eventually turned to something else even more enjoyable. Unfortunately, it had also temporarily addled her senses and she had ended up Apparating back to her flat leaving a personal effect behind.

As she bent to look under the table for her missing item, she felt a warm hand on her back and then dangling before her eyes were a pair of pink, satin, knickers.

"Looking for these?"

Snatching them from the freckled hand, Hermione straightened up and stuffed the garment into her coat pocket. "Stop teasing me, Fred," she huffed.

"You probably wouldn't be so forgetful, if you would just agree to spend the night with me, instead of running home after our every encounter," Fred smirked.

"I am not going to spend the night in the bed of someone I'm not even dating!" she responded tensely.

Frowning, Fred asked her, "Would it be so bad?"

"Would what be so bad?"

"You and me dating. You and me being a couple. Would that be so bad?"

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione replied truthfully, "I didn't realize it was an option."

"Well it is," he replied quickly. "That is if you are interested."

Smiling broadly, she stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his waist, murmuring, "I am. Very interested."

"Good. It's about time we stopped hiding and made it official," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"And just think of the fortune I'll save from not having to replace lost knickers," she joked.

"If you want to save even more money," he leered. "You don't have to wear knickers when you visit me at all!"


	13. ALONE

Fred Weasley stepped into his room and quietly shut the door. Despite the fact that several of his friends were in the living area of his and George's flat, his entire attention was focused on the lump underneath the bedspread. "Hermione," he called trying not to let a hint of the amusement he was feeling enter his voice, "come out from there."

"Sod off!" came the muffled reply.

"Luv, don't be like that. No one is going to say a word."

"I'm not coming out until everyone is gone. It is the only way I can keep what is left of my pride."

"What are you talking about? You should be filled with pride – you look bloody amazing in your red knickers and lacey top thingy."

Hermione's head popped up from behind the covers. Her hair was wild and her eyes were narrowed in outrage. "I can't believe you told me to come over here wearing something sexy since we would be alone tonight!"

"Not alone. A.L.O.N.E."

"What the bloody hell is that?" she demanded.

"Alicia, Lee, Oliver, Neville, Etc. It's the code George and I use whenever we are having a bunch of Gryffindors over."

Hermione blinked slowly twice in response to this revelation. Twice was not good. It wasn't as bad as three times, but Fred still knew that it meant she was not happy.

"And why, pray tell, Fred Weasley, would you want me to show up in something 'sexy' when you had plans to be surrounded by our former schoolmates?"

"Ur…" Hermione raised her eyes at what appeared to be Fred doing an impersonation of Ron as his face flushed red. "Well, you see, Lee might have mentioned that he was surprised that we were still dating."

"Really?" her tone was cold.

"Yea. But I told him that you were completely fascinating what with your cleverness, your wicked sense of humor, and the way you can get all sexy in the blink of an eye."

"Mmmm," Hermione hummed uncommitted. "Why didn't the conversation end there?"

"Because then George said that he'd never seen you turn on the sexy. And I told him that of course, HE hadn't since you just reserve the sexy for me. Unfortunately, Oliver couldn't drop it and bet George that you probably didn't even turn sexy for me. And, well, you know I hate missing out on a sure thing bet. So I sent you the note. But I swear, luv, I thought you would come over wearing your short green skirt or that black sweater that makes your tits—ur… your breasts look so good. I NEVER thought you'd Apparate over in sexy knickers and a camisole. I didn't even know you owned anything like that!"

Hermione's face was expressionless. "How much did you win?"

"What??"

"How much did you win?"

"Twenty-five Galleons."

"Ron and Harry and some of the old DA members are at the Burrow tonight," she informed him.

Fred was confused. "Do you want to get dressed and go over there?"

Hermione shook her head. "Do you think if we won another thirty Galleons, we could spend the weekend in Paris?"

Fred grinned in response. "Sexy, clever, and a wicked sense of humor, I swear, Hermione, there is no way I'll ever grow tired of us."


	14. Teaching Fred a Lesson

Teaching Fred a Lesson

**Teaching Fred a Lesson**

When Fred Weasley awoke that Tuesday morning he immediately realized two things. First, it was his birthday. He'd made it to the ripe old age of twenty-four, in spite of working daily with some of the most dangerous and restricted magical ingredients in the world, in spite of having participated in a vicious blood war that had killed several of his good friends, and in spite of regularly pissing off his girl, who was one of the smartest and most intimidating witches in England.

The second thing he realized was that said girl was not in his bed. He was certain she had been there when he fell asleep last night, certain that she had promised him a special surprise this morning in honor of his special day. Perhaps she was in the kitchen making him breakfast. He smiled to himself at the thought of her being 'domestic', before jumping out of bed and pulling on his dressing gown. George would kill him, if he let Hermione ruin another set of their pans.

When Fred opened the door to his room, however, he found his path to the kitchen blocked by an impediment. It was as if a ward or shield of some sort had been cast between his doorway and the hall. He rolled his eyes. This was obviously Hermione's pathetic attempt to get him back for charming all the clasps of her bras to pop open whenever she walked into his flat. He turned back to grab his wand off the bedside table, but it was missing.

He shook his head sadly. If Hermione thought she could out-prank him simply by removing his wand, she was more naive than Victoire. Fred Weasley was a fucking genius at wandless _Finite Incantatem_. Unfortunately, even after several attempts, the spell wasn't working. The barrier across his door was STILL there. Bugger it all. If he called out to Hermione to release him, it would be admitting defeat. He would be acknowledging that his uptight, slightly neurotic, yet adorably anal girlfriend could beat him at his own game. George would never shut-up about it. Ron would probably take out an ad in the _Daily Prophet. _Ginny would choreograph a song and dance number, then make Harry perform it at the next Ministry function Fred attended. He could not – would not – allow any of that to occur.

He wished for the hundredth time that he hadn't let Hermione talk him into making it impossible to Disapparate from his room. After the fifth or sixth time George had 'popped' in on them unexpectedly, she'd threatened to never have sex with him again unless he could guarantee her some privacy. He had immediately caved-in to her demands, just like a pussy-whipped sod. Now, he couldn't even attempt a wandless Apparation spell, even if he was desperate enough to give it a go.

Touching the barrier with his hand, Fred was surprised to find it slightly sticky. It occurred to him that the barrier might be physical, rather than magical. He pressed a little harder on it with his hand and found that it gave slightly when he put pressure on it. Grinning, he determined that with a little exertion of manly force the obstruction would be down in a trice.

-0-0-0-

Standing in the hall, Hermione and George watched as something bounced off the barrier stretched across Fred's doorway. They heard a loud crash onto the floor, followed by cursing.

George reached out and ran a hand over the shiny, grey strips that had been stretched between the doo frame's opening until not a section was left uncovered. "What is it?" he asked, awed.

"Duct tape," Hermione smirked.

"Is it something new that is being developed in the Department of Mysteries? Some new device that Aurors are using to capture dark wizards?"

Hermione laughed and shook her head, tossing him what was left of the roll. "No. I got it from Woolworths."

She giggled at George's continued confusion. Hermione turned away as Fred again bounced off the tape. "Muggle pranks aren't as good as magical pranks, my arse," she muttered, before heading into the sitting room for some tea.


	15. A Difficult Conversation

**A Difficult Conversation**

Hermione plopped down on the stool behind the front counter at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and watched as her husband of four months locked up the shop. Her and Fred had finally tied the knot after what Molly insisted, despite being provided with evidence to the contrary, on referring to as the longest engagement in wizarding history.

So what if it took them a little longer than the usual couple to set a date? Given the extra long life spans of witches and wizards, Hermione figured that an eight year courtship wasn't that bizarre. Besides once the wedding had been set in motion things had moved extraordinarily fast. The ceremony, the honeymoon, buying a house, moving in together, redecorating, and all the little adjustments that went along with marriage had put the two former Gryffindors into constant motion. Hermione had just found out, moreover, that the changes and alternations to their lives were going to continue into the foreseeable future.

Fred hopped up onto the counter next her and leaned over for a kiss. "You look knackered, luv."

"I found out some surprising news today," she informed him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"What's that?" Fred grinned. "Are you receiving another promotion?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nope. This is news that is going to affect both our lives immensely."

"So spill," Fred told her, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm pregnant."

Fred shook his head and rolled his eyes. "That's pathetic."

Furrowing her brow and frowning at him, Hermione asked a bit hotly, "What do you mean, 'that's pathetic'?"

"I mean, if you really want me to buy that story, you are going to have to put a lot more effort into the buildup and the delivery."

"More effort…" she repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you need to storm in here raving about how we just turned the spare room into an office and now we are going to have to change it into a nursery. Rant about how your due date is going to fall during the most important section of your next Ministry assignment. Initiate some type of tirade about the lack of onsite childcare at your place of employment. Get all adorably frustrated and flustered like you do when life doesn't exactly follow your plans AND maybe then I'd fall for you being pregnant."

Hermione just stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Hey," he warned her. "Don't get all upset with me because you're a bad actress."

"You're an idiot," she informed him, when she could speak again.

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "That's why I make the big bucks."

She snorted and shook her head, but he could tell she was at least partially amused. He hopped off the counter and grabbed her hand. "Let's go the _Leaky_ for a drink before heading home for dinner."

"That sounds wonderful, Fred. Unfortunately, I have to stop drinking since I'm pregnant."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "You know, luv, it isn't really that funny after I've already figure out that you are joking."

Turning, he tried to pull her toward the door. Hermione, however, refused to budge.

"Fred. I. Am. Pregnant."

He looked into her eyes, as if he was searching for some indication that she was joking. "Impossible," he finally stated, although he did not sound quite as positive as he had earlier.

"Surely not i_mpossible_, Frederick. Your father did give you the talk, before we got married, about how little witches and wizards are made, right?"

He ignored her sarcasm in order to present further proof about why he would not believe she was with child. "I know you aren't pregnant, Hermione, because you didn't plan it. There is no way you are going to do something that BIG without making a chart figuring out the perfect timing for such an event."

"I agree that having a chart would have been the ideal way to go about getting pregnant, but such pre-planning isn't always an option. Sometimes one has to settle for post-planning." Hermione reached into her robes and pulled a sheet of parchment that she then laid on the counter.

Fred dropped her hand and reached for the scroll. Straightening it out, he saw that his wife had developed a weekly list of what they needed to accomplish during the next nine months to be prepared when their baby arrived.

He looked into her face, his mouth open slightly in surprise. "You're pregnant?"

She nodded at him, a pleased smile now on her face.

With an exclamation of joy, he gathered her into his arm and spun her around in circles. When he finally set her down, he gave her a deep, wet kiss. "I'm going to be a daddy!"

Squeezing his arm firmly, Hermione leaned into him. "Got you," she grinned.

"What?! You're not pregnant!"

Hermione's grin got even bigger, as she shrugged her shoulders. "You tell me. You are the supposed genius at being able to figure out when someone is pulling a prank on you. Am I acting adorably flustered, yet?"

Fred's eyes darted from her face, to her stomach, to the parchment, then back to her face again. "Bloody hell, Hermione!"

She giggled, kissed him, and then grabbed his hand and began to lead him toward the floo.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll definitely know by the end of nine months whether or not I'm serious."


	16. Quidditch

**Quidditch**

There was a general impression among the Weasleys that Hermione hated Quidditch. She had attended matches while in school, but as soon as she left Hogwarts it had been like pulling teeth to get her to watch a game.

The truth was, however, that Hermione didn't dislike Quidditch. She simply enjoyed having Fred give her the play-by-play after matches more than going to the games. Of course, had the Weasleys known Fred used Hermione's torso as a miniature pitch upon which to diagram the match's most exciting maneuvers they might have understood better her reluctance to sit in the stands.


	17. Passed Over

**Passed Over**

Even after being married for almost a decade, Fred Weasley at times misread this wife's signals. There were times when she stomped around their home, slamming down books and banging together kitchen pots, when she really just wanted someone to sit down with her while she ranted about some Ministry dimwit. There were other instances, however, when the stomping, slamming, and banging indicated that she wanted to be 'Left the fuck alone!' Fred sure hoped that today she wasn't in one of those former moods.

"I think it is a good thing you didn't get the promotion, luv."

"What?!" she growled, snapping her head around to fast to look at him that he thought for a moment her neck might be attached to some spring-loaded mechanism.

"I'm serious. Now when the department goes to hell in pair of dragonhide boots you can swoop in and save the day."

"But they gave the position to Malfoy," she spat. The fact that she and Malfoy had risen side-by-side throughout Ministry ranks had irritated her to no end. However, this was the ultimate insult. She couldn't believe she'd been passed over for interim department head in favor of that spoiled, foppish whelp.

Before Hermione had an opportunity to beat up another defenseless pillow or pound a frying pan, Fred broke into her thoughts. "What do you think is going to happen the next time the Wizengamot meets?"

"Malfoy will muck it up. He never has taken the time to figure out which members of the Magical Law Enforcement staff can best handle high pressure situations. He'll give too many cases to those with little experience and they'll lose at least a third of the winnable ones just because they are overworked. He'll give me some pointless, low profile case in an attempt to 'bury his competition'. And, he'll probably end up demanding that a number of cases that should really be plea-bargained away go to trial causing the proceeding to last a good two weeks longer than they should."

Fred grinned. "And when Kingsley gets fed up with how poorly the department is being run, who will he expect to clean up the mess Malfoy makes?"

"Me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Quit and make them wallow in the sty they've created for themselves."

Fred shook his head and pulled his stubborn wife into his arm. "No. You are going to go into the office everyday. You are going to agree to do whatever Malfoy wants even after he brushes aside your sensible recommendations. You will win the case he assigns you so quickly and competently that you look like a paragon of efficiency compared to ferret-face. And when the Minister of Magic is kicking himself for ever giving Malfoy a leadership opportunity, you'll be there to step-in and make it all better. Before the year is over, you will be permanent head of the department and Malfoy will forever be marked as incompetent to handle a position in management."

Hermione mulled over his words before finally brightening and hugging him tightly. "How come no one else offers me sympathy in quite the same way as you?"

"It is simple, luv," he replied, kissing her lightly on the lips. "It's not sympathy; it's strategy."


	18. Hot Times

**Hot Times**

Hermione sat on the curb across the street from what had only moments ago been the store front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Her face was streaked with soot, and a layer of ash covered her hair. She watched with a heavy heart as the Ministry's Disaster Amelioration team cleaned up the last of the fire's smoldering embers. She wondered if Fred had heard the news and was now cursing the day he'd allowed her to work in the shop.

She had offered to help at the Wheezes during George's and Angelina's honeymoon. Hermione thought it would be a fun and laid back atmosphere. Besides, she'd had a crush on the oldest Weasley twin for months and hoped that showing an interest in Fred's work might cause him to recognize her as something other than the uptight, former girlfriend of his ickle brother. However, she'd found being his shop assistant miserable. Every suggestion she made, whether it concerned rearranging the shelves or creating new products, he took as a personal insult to his intelligence.

This morning they'd fought after he'd demonstrated a prototype for a Right Course Broom that made it impossible for the rider to get lost. She'd thought the idea was ingenious and suggested adding a bonding charm so the broomstick could bear its owner home no matter what his or her condition. Rather than being appreciative, Fred had gotten irritated. He'd declared that she was still a know-it-all swot who was never satisfied. She'd yelled back that he was a self-righteous prat who shouldn't ask her opinion if he disliked her contributions. In response, he'd stomped out of the shop and not returned the entire day.

Hermione had considered closing up and going home to pout. Instead, however, she'd burned down his store. To be fair, it wasn't completely her fault. She'd warned Fred that the fire-breathing dragon miniatures were too close to the Wild-Fire Wizbangs. But she was minding the counter when two young boys knocked a shelf of the miniatures directly on top of the fireworks. Before Hermione knew what was happening, half of the store was in flames. She got all the customers out and rescued the Pygmy Puffs, but everything else had been a loss.

Whatever foolish hope she had retained that Fred might give a romantic relationship with her a shot had now been burned to bits.

"Hermione!"

She looked for who was calling her name, but saw no one through the crowd.

"Hermione!"

And then he was there. "Fred, I'm so—"

Before she could finish, he was kneeling in front of her, pulling her into his arms, pressing kisses against her hair, her eyelids, and her cheeks. "Merlin," he whispered. "I've never been so scared in my life. Thank Circe, you made it out!"

"But the shop," Hermione cried, overwhelmed to be in his arms. "It's gone!"

"Forget about the bloody shop," he ranted. "What matters is that no one was hurt – that _you_ are okay."

"I was so worried you'd hate me," she sobbed into his shirt.

"I've been a fool," he admitted, pulling away from her slightly. "I've fancied you for ages, Hermione, even before you and Ron started dating. I thought this week would be the ideal opportunity to prove that I've grown-up since school. I wanted to impress you with my business sense and inventiveness, but instead I turned into a bad-natured, arrogant tosser."

"If you're a fool, then I am one too," she admitted. "I've spent the week trying to prove that I am not the same stick-in-the-mud I was at Hogwarts so you'd consider me potential date material. I thought it was obvious that I've always found you magically brilliant."

"Something is wrong here." Fred chuckled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "It goes against reason and the laws of nature for both of us to be fools."

"It does sound a bit preposterous," Hermione giggled.

Placing a kiss on her forehead, Fred pulled the girl to her feet. "Let's get you home and cleaned up. If you are real sweet, I might even let you convince me to sleep on your couch tonight."

Hermione's eyes widened as she suddenly recalled that the fire had taken his flat, as well as the shop. "Oh Fred," she gasped.

"Shush… It's okay, luv."

"What are you going tell George?"

Fred shrugged. "He's so in love, he might not even notice." Grabbing her hand and the box of Pygmy Puffs, she barely heard him whisper, "Kind of like me."

**Author's Notes:** Written for Romancing the Wizard's – Bring Out Your Dead Challenge. The prompt was "Starting Over." Big thanks to **floorcoaster** for agreeing to beta this – she is a complete doll. Also a big thanks to the RTW proof-reader - **somigliana**.


	19. New Possibilities

**New Possibilities**

"Ron's a git," Fred stated emphatically, sitting down on the dock next to the brown haired girl.

"I could have told you that and I've known him much less time than you," Hermione responded, leaning back on her hands and lifting her face toward the sky.

Fred glanced toward her and couldn't help but admire her figure. "It's not going to last."

"What? Ron and Luna? It doesn't bother me."

"Hermione…"

"It doesn't," she said firmly, looking at Fred for the first time. "I broke up with him."

"You did? That big bag of puss never told me!"

"He wouldn't, would he?" Hermione smiled, tilting her face back to the sun.

"Why not? I'm his big brother! After I'd taken the Mickey out on him, I could have helped him drown his sorrows!"

"He probably figured it would give you ideas," Hermione replied, turning her head to grin at him.

Fred blinked rapidly several times, smiled wickedly, and then leaned over to lightly touch his lips to hers. When he finally pulled back, a large smirk covered his face. "If the tosser didn't want to give me ideas, he should have never befriended you in the first place!"


	20. It's Really Not Funny

**It's Really Not Funny**

As soon as Harry defeated Voldemort, Hermione rushed to the hospital wing to see Fred. He had barely been breathing when Ron and Percy had pulled him from the rubble of the collapsed wall. When she reached his bedside she was taken aback by how pale and weak he looked.

"Fred?" she whispered.

His eyes opened slowly. "Hermione," he replied, his lips barely moving.

"Are you… will you be okay?"

"It's not good," he told her with a shake of his head.

"Oh, Fred!" she cried, clutching his hand as tears slid down her face.

"Shush, luv. It doesn't have to be sad. I could die a happy man if I could just see you naked once."

Hermione blinked in surprise, stunned at his words. "What?"

"Wait, that wasn't very good. I was just getting warmed up. Let me try a different pick-up line."

"P-pick-up line?" she stuttered. "Are you saying that you're going to be alright?"

He smirked. "I will be once you agree to go out with me."


	21. Chip Off the Ol' Block

**Chip Off the Ol' Block**

"Daddy, what's a prank?"

Fred's eyes opened wide as he stared down at his four year old son. _Oh, please don't let George know about this! _"Ur… why do you ask?"

"Cousin Roxy said she pranks Cousin Fred all the time."

"Why didn't you ask Roxy about pranks?"

"I did! But she laughed and ran off to tell her daddy."

_Damn_. "Go ask your Mum what a prank is."

"I did! But she said that boys my age didn't need to know about pranks."

Fred sighed deeply. "I can't tell you about pranks."

"Why not?" Gideon stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "Don't you know?"

"Of course I know. Unfortunately, I promised your mother years ago not to encourage our children to be hellions."

"What's a hellion?"

"Never you mind," Fred sighed again, before perking up. "You know what I can do, Sport?"

"What?"

"I can give you examples of pranks I played in the past and you can figure out what a prank is yourself."

"Okay!"

Fred smiled at his oldest boy. "Remember when I charmed the tree in the back yard to drop a spider on Uncle Ron's head every time he walked underneath it?"

Gideon nodded.

"That was a prank."

"So making Uncle Ron scream is a prank?"

"That's just an example. Remember when I charmed the stove to start smoking whenever your Mum tried to bake something?"

"Yeah."

"That was a prank."

"So making ANYONE scream is a prank?"

"Kind of. Do you remember when I turned your Grandma Weasley's hair blue and all the family laughed?"

"Uh-huh."

"That was a prank, too."

"Okay. So pranks make one person scream and everyone else laugh?"

"Sure. More or less."

"I got it now, Daddy."

"Great. Now you give me an example of a prank."

"Me pretending not to know what a prank is to get you to admit charming the tree, the stove, and grandmum's hair, while Mummy records your confession to play for the family at brunch tomorrow. That's a prank right?"

Fred's eyes widen once again. He looked around the room and saw Hermione standing in the doorway with a digital camera. _Damn_. "Yeah, Sport," he replied with a self-deprecating smile. "That's a prank."

AN: Winner of the fwhgldws challenge for the prompt: Prank.


	22. Can't Let You Go

**Can't Let You Go**

Hermione's seventh year at Hogwarts was not turning out as she had expected. Most of her classmates had chosen not to come back to school. They had accepted the Ministry's offer of receiving their NEWTS by sitting for an oral exam. Hermione, however, hadn't wanted to take what she considered 'the easy way out.' Instead, she had insisted on completing a full year at the wizarding educational institution. Her decision had led to a huge argument with Ron, which resulted in them agreeing to date other people during their year apart.

Despite most of her classes being with Ginny or Luna, Hermione felt lonelier than she had since first year. Being at Hogwarts without Harry and Ron was more difficult than she had ever imagined. Evenings spent studying in the library or the Gryffindor Common Room weren't the same without her friends to laugh with or nag. In her more morose moods, Hermione even missed the excitement of fighting, thwarting, and ruining Voldemort's plots.

Therefore, almost two months after school started, Hermione began wandering the halls after curfew just to bring some adventure back into her life. She was infuriated when her nightly jaunts did not bring her to the notice of any prefects. _Clearly the current students were not taking their positions seriously._ She considered writing an anonymous note to Headmistress McGonagall informing of her of their appalling ineffectiveness, but worried that might bring the Professors out on patrol.

In all of her excursions, however, Hermione was careful not to pass through that part of the castle in which Fred Weasley had been killed. The location held too many bad memories and she didn't like being reminded of the loss of that particular red-headed twin. Although Hermione had never thought of him as much more than Ron's older, prankster brother, she had mourned his passing alongside the entire Weasley family.

At the end of the first week of October, Hermione was almost caught by Filch as she roamed the halls. She'd had to take off running in the opposite direction of his approach. It wasn't until she had sprinted down two halls and rounded several corners that she realized that she was standing in the exact location where Fred had died. Out of breath and slightly nauseous, Hermione slid down next the wall until she was sitting on the ground her head buried in her arms.

"What's the problem, Granger?"

Hermione froze. The voice she never thought to hear again sent a shiver down her spine.

"Graaaaangeeeeer," the voice repeated teasingly.

She slowly lifted her eyes and saw Fred standing before her.

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered.

Fred smirked. "Is it my good looks or my charm that has managed to render you effectively mute?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked still stunned.

Fred frowned and sat down next to her against the wall. "That's a good question. I'm not quite sure." He shrugged as if it wasn't important.

Hermione swallowed loudly. "Are you a ghost?"

Fred laughed. "I would have to be dead to be ghost!"

"But you—" Hermione cut herself off before she could inform him that he was dead. She didn't want to do or say anything that might make him disappear.

"But I what?" he asked.

"You… you look healthy," she told him, now unable to drag her eyes away from him.

"Thank you," he preened. "I love getting compliments from beautiful women."

Hermione was too shocked to blush at his flattering remark. She wanted to race to the library and immediately begin exploring the different magical explanations for his appearance. At the same time, she refused to leave him in case he faded away. As a compromise, she questioned him about what he'd been doing and what he remembered. Fred, however, ignored her queries and instead told jokes until Hermione laughed.

After an hour, Fred stretched his arms above his head and stood. "I'm beat. I need to go get some rest."

"No!" Hermione screeched, jumping to her feet. "You can't go!"

Fred smiled down at her, cupping her face in his hand. "There is no reason to get so emotional, Granger. I'll be back tomorrow."

"You will?" she sniffed, her eyes suddenly filling with tears.

He nodded and leaned down to brush his lips against her's. "Not even death could keep me away."


	23. Product Testing

**Product Testing**

Fred had just completed a three foot long parchment on the various uses of fluxweed in advanced potions' brewing when Hermione entered the library. As usual, she had a devious smile plastered across on her face and mischievous glint in her eyes. Fred's own eyes narrowed as he watched her sit down at a table of first year Hufflepuffs. When she began to exchange packages wrapped in brown paper for Knuts and Sickles, Fred knew he had to intervene.

"What's going on?" he asked stiffly from where he stood at the head of the table.

The first years blanched and looked guilty. Hermione, however, sat up, threw an arm over the back of the chair, and grinned widely up at him. "Nothing is going on, Freddy. Why do you ask?"

"You shouldn't be selling banned goods to first years."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you are talking about." Hermione then turned toward the scared kids sitting at her table. "Don't you lot have some place to be?"

The Hufflepuffs jumped from their chairs and started for the library exit.

"Just hold it right there!" Fred barked, causing the first years to slide to halt.

Hermione stood up and moved to stand in front of Fred. "Don't be a prick, Freddy."

"What?! I'm not! Just because I expect mature behavior from older students doesn't not make me the bad guy."

Hermione gave him a half smile, placed one of her hands on his shoulder, while her other hand began to undo his tie. "You really need to loosen up if you want me to believe that."

"Hermione, stop messing around."

She took a step closer to him, lifted her face to his, slipped one hand around her back, and waved the Hufflepuffs out of the library. "I'm not messing around, Fred. I'm completely serious about helping you relax."

"What makes you think I'm interested," he inquired, visibly swallowing at her nearness.

"Just call it a hunch," she whispered, reaching up to draw his head down to hers.

Fred sighed knowing he shouldn't kiss her, but at the same time not wanting to pull away. "This is crazy," he told her.

"The world's a better place when it's upside down," she told him before pressing her lips against his.

A kick to his leg jolted Fred awake. "Come on, mate," George called. "We are supposed to test the _Personality Swap Day Dream Charms_ today."

Fred coughed and blinked the sleep from his eyes. "I tested one last night."

"Yeah? What did you think?"

"They are definitely interesting, but the results are also bit frightening," Fred admitted.

"Really?" George replied with a frown. "Maybe we should just drop the idea."

Fred sat up. "Perhaps, but I think I'll discuss the recipe with Hermione first."

"Hermione?" George looked astonished. "She's just going to get all uptight about it."

"I dunno," Fred smiled to himself. "I've got a feeling she might enjoy this product more than you'd think."

The End

AN: Winner of the fwhgldws challenge for the prompt: The world's a better place when it's upside down.


	24. Survival

**Title:** Survival

Much to everyone's surprise, Fred Weasley was an over-protective father. If anyone had bothered to run a betting pool (which George actually set up the minute he'd heard Hermione was pregnant but Molly made him abolish before any money had exchanged hands) they would have wagered that Fred would put his child on a broom as soon the boy could grip the handle. They would have bet that Fred's kid would have tasted a Canary Cream, a Ton-Tongue Toffee, and a Fainting Fancy all before his second birthday. And they definitely would have warned their own children to not stand too close to their cousin whenever he opened a gift from his father, least they be caught in the cross-fire.

They all would have lost dozens of Galleons.

In reality, Fred was more careful than even Percy at sheltering his child from possible injury. As an infant, the boy had been constantly in his father's arms or in some Muggle contraption that allowed Fred to carry the baby on his back. When the child began to walk, Fred managed to cast a permanent cushioning charm over all the hard surfaces in his and Hermione's home. Even when the boy's cousins played Quidditch on miniature brooms that didn't lift more than four feet off the ground, Fred volunteered his son to be scorekeeper so the lad couldn't come to any harm.

Ron and George initially blamed Hermione for Fred's attitude. However, it quickly became clear that Hermione was much more permissive with the child than was Fred. She had no problem letting the boy swim in the pond behind the Burrow – something that Fred had tried to forbid. She let the child pet stray dogs and cats, causing her husband to begin carrying around a vial of rabies vaccine at all times. She also encouraged the boy to explore the stockroom of _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_, showing him how to get past the Wards Fred had put in place to prevent such an occurrence.

While his brothers teased him about turning his son into a poof, Fred always just shook his head and hugged the boy a little tighter.

Hermione knew, however, what lay behind her husband's demeanor. Their child had been born six weeks early and significantly underweight. It had been almost a month before they were allowed to bring him home from St. Mungo's and even then he had been fragile and fussy. Both Fred and Hermione had quickly reached their wits end with feedings every two hours and a baby who woke the moment he was laid into his crib.

It wasn't until Fred walked in on Hermione singing a lullaby to the child that his aggressive need to shelter the boy developed.

_Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top…_

"What?! What in the world would a baby be doing on a tree top?"

"It's a song, Fred. Muggles sing it to children to help them fall asleep."

"Bloody stupid, if you ask me."

When the wind blows the cradle will rock…

"I'm telling you right now, Hermione, that my son is not going out on windy days without a stocking cap."

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall…

"That's it! No more of this horrible song! You will give the boy nightmares."

"Fred, calm down."

"Unless this song ends with a fairy godmother sweeping down from the sky and rescuing the tot, I don't want to hear another word."

"But…"

"Not another word, Hermione."

From that moment on, Fred had determined that he was the only one who could completely be trusted to look out for his son's interests. He knew Hermione and the rest of his family would never intentionally hurt the boy, but obviously their sensibilities had been warped in the fight against Voldemort. Apparently, in Fred's mind, only he had survived the struggle untainted. And, therefore, he had to constantly protect the boy.

"You'll have to let him go someday, darling," Hermione whispered in his ear, as Fred sat watching anxiously as his son play Exploding Snap with James.

Fred nodded distractedly. "I know, luv. Just let me get him to Hogwarts in one piece and I'll calm down."

Notes: Set in the Freds_Not_Dead Universe. Written for lj community fwhg_ldws challenge and based on the prompt: lullaby.

Hermione smiled and rubbed his back. She hoped he never remembered that her, Harry, and his entire family had faced more dangers and evils at Hogwarts than they had ever faced at home.


	25. Creepy

**Title:** Creepy  
**Author:** **drcjsnider**  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 528  
**A/N(optional):** Sometimes what's scary at Halloween isn't the ghosts and goblins.

Fred Weasley liked to proclaim loudly and repeatedly that there were numerous advantages to dating a Muggle-born. First, you got easy access to the telly and to films chock full of mindless violence and explosions. Second, it was simple to trick even smart Muggle-borns into embracing fictional wizarding customs like 'wear your robes backwards day.' And third, Muggle-borns were great at teaching wizards about non-magical holiday traditions – such as wearing costumes that portrayed famous figures on Halloween.

This last advantage had helped _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ make October 2002 the most successful month since their opening. Who would have guessed that England's witches and wizards would spend hundreds of Galleons on products like 'Temporary Harry Potter Scars,' 'Bushy Brunette Hair Glamours,' and 'Weasley Freckle Lotion,' all in anticipation of dressing up for the holiday.

In fact, Fred was so thrilled with advantages accorded him by his Muggle-born girlfriend, that he planned on whisking her upstairs as soon as the shop closed, stripping her naked, and then presenting her with an engagement ring that would bind her to him for life – without causing her nose to grow or turning her fingers orange (he'd save that for the wedding band). As the day wore on, however, Fred's nerves started to get the better of him and he worried that Hermione would never _permanently_ settle for someone as immature as him.

Therefore, when he caught sight of the back of Hermione's head slipping through the door to the _Wheezes'_ stockroom about twenty minutes before he and George normally locked up, Fred decided to put himself out of his misery and immediately ask for her hand in marriage. Unfortunately, upon entering the stockroom, Fred felt like choking on his own bile as he witnessed his girlfriend snogging his younger brother. Catching Ron's eye over Hermione's shoulder, Fred wanted to smash in the newly minted Auror's face, especially after Ron winked at him and mouthed, 'Go Away.'

Backing out of the door, his hands clenched in rage and his stomach churning with fear that he'd lost her forever, Fred just about jumped out of his skin when someone wrapped their arms around his waist.

Hermione laughed. "A bit twitchy tonight, aren't you? Surely the great Fred Weasley isn't worried about ghosts and goblins?"

Fred froze. If Hermione was behind him, just who the hell was with Ron?

Hermione looked around him into the stockroom and made a retching sound. "I wish you would cast some sort of spell on Ron so that he couldn't kiss anyone wearing those 'Bushy Hair Glamours.' It totally creeps me out."

Fred nodded before turning around and folding his arms around Hermione. "I'm never selling that product again. I don't care how much money it brings in, it isn't worth the aggravation."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Maybe you should just get rid of me – that way you could avoid the aggravation and still make money."

"No can do. You are essential to my well-being," Fred told her with a shake of his head and a lop-sided grin. "However, I do wish someone had warned me about the_ disadvantages_ of dating a Muggle-born before I fell in love with you."


	26. What If

**Title:** What If  
**Author:** drcjsnider  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 748  
**A/N(optional):** Maybe today is the day he can let her go. Set is the freds_not_dead universe. Written for the fwhg_ldws prompt: Singing in the rain. Winner of week 6 challenge.

It's the 'what ifs' that get me every time.

What if I had gone back to Hogwarts with her for our seventh year? What if I hadn't suggested we date other people? What if Fred and George hadn't opened a shop in Hogsmeade? What if Hermione had never heard about me dating that intern from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? What if she hadn't cried in disappointment on Fred's shoulder? What if Fred hadn't survived the attack on Hogwarts?

I try not to let myself dwell on what might have been – our storybook wedding, our amazing kids, us growing old together – at least I try when I'm around other people. When I'm alone in my flat, I freely indulge in that most depressing of pastimes.

Today, however, I'm surrounded by people. Surrounded by cheerful people who have come to the Burrow to witness one of the proprietors of _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ marry the youngest transfiguration professor ever hired by Hogwarts. I recognize in the crowd old school mates, members of the Order, and more recently acquired friends. Friends who weren't around when it seemed like Hermione and I would end up together. It depresses me to realize that there are people in the world who don't know that Hermione and I were once 'meant to be'.

I stand next to Harry and stare out the window as George and Charlie rush around setting up tents to protect guests from the rain. "It's too bad about the weather," I murmur, secretly pleased that everything today isn't turning out perfect.

"Hermione says rain on your wedding day is good luck," Harry replied, laying calming hand on my shoulder.

He knows how I feel, but his sympathy is not comforting. After all, he warned me something like this might happen if I hurt her again. Moreover, I know that he is glad she is happy. I overheard him tell Neville once that Fred and Hermione made more sense as a couple than she and I did. Apparently, Fred makes her laugh and relax much more easily than I ever could. She also doesn't nag him nearly as much as she still does me.

I turn when I hear footsteps on the stairs. It's Hermione and my breath catches in my throat at how lovely she looks. Her curls are tied back and her robes are clinging to her curves. She smiles broadly at Harry and me. Once, not so long ago, she had different smiles for us. She gave Harry sisterly smiles and reserved more knowing, less wholesome, smiles for me. Today we both get the same smile – friendly, warm, and affectionate. It's not what I want to see when she looks at me.

The front door opens and her gaze sweeps past us. Although my eyes never leave her face, I can tell from how her smile deepens that Fred is standing in the doorway.

"It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding," I mutter, earning an elbow in the ribs from Harry.

"What are you all dressed up for?" Fred teases, taking the stairs two at a time until he is standing right below her.

"What? This old thing?" Hermione responds with a grin, straightening her shoulders and making her dress sway.

I can't hear Fred's response, but Hermione's eyes soften as she leans forward to brush her lips against his.

"Boys!" my mum calls, as she bustles into the room. "Get outside now, we are ready to start." She glances up the stairs. "Fred! Outside, immediately!"

With a wink at Hermione, Fred Apparates into the yard.

Harry and I walk out the door, passing Mr. Granger. As we take our seats near the front of the guests, I focus on Fred. He looks excited and content. There is not even a hint of nerves in his demeanor. It is apparent to everyone that the man is in love and overjoyed to be marrying the witch of his dreams. It is written all over his face.

Although it's been over a year since I felt stomach churning jealously at the thought of them together, I still experience a general feeling of melancholy at the thought of what I've lost. Maybe seeing her settled, married to my brother, is what I need to move on. 'What if,' I think to myself as Hermione begins to walk down the aisle on her father's arm, 'today is the day I can finally let her go?'

But, what if it's not?


	27. First Date

**Title:** First Date  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 730  
**A/N(optional):** Sometimes things are not as they seem. Set in the **freds_not_dead** universe. Winner of the **fwhg_ldws** challenge – prompt: first date.

Hermione massaged the back of her neck with her hand. She was exhausted. She'd come straight over to _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ from her office at the Ministry after Fred's Floo call. He and George had been having trouble figuring out the proper ratio of flobberworm mucus to hellebore in a new potion they were developing for the shop. She'd offered to help, but hadn't made much progress.

After she and Fred had been working in the lab for three hours, George poked his head in. "Oi! I'm locking up and then going upstairs to get ready for my date with Angelina. Do you need anything before I go?"

Fred glanced at Hermione, who shook her head. "No, we'll be fine. Go. Have fun. Don't do anything that Hermione wouldn't do."

Both George and Hermione rolled their eyes at him.

Once George was gone, Fred sat on his stool and looked frustrated. "I don't feel any closer to a solution now than when we started," he muttered. "Let's call it a night and nip over to _The Leaky Cauldron_ for dinner."

Hermione looked down at her robes. They were covered with slime and little bits of flobberworm. She doubted that even the strongest _Scourgify_ could clean it. "I'll have to pass," she sighed. "I just want to go home and take a shower."

"Hey, you can't leave without eating," Fred protested. "You wash up and I'll Apparate to the pub to pick us up a kidney pie and a couple of butterbeers."

Hermione smiled as he popped out of the room. Lately, she and Fred had been spending a lot of time together in his lab. She'd begun to develop a crush on him, which wasn't that surprising given he was cute, funny, smart, and charming. Of course, he was also her ex-boyfriend's brother and had never demonstrated the least bit of interest in her. Therefore, Hermione was carefully trying not to reveal her developing feelings for the eldest Weasley twin.

As she turned to clean up at the sink, Hermione knocked Fred's file of notes to the floor. "Bugger," she hissed, bending down to pick them up. As she placed the scrolls back into the folder, however, she came across a memo that specified the exact quantity of mucus to hellebore needed for the _Wheezes'_ new potion. She stared at it in confusion.

The silence in the room was broken by Fred's return. "I hope you're hungry, because I picked up some chips to go with the pie," he told her.

Hermione turned toward him and held up the memo she'd found. "What's this?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Ur… it's the formula for the potion we've been working on."

"Why in the hell did you have me trying to figure this out all evening if you already had the solution?" she questioned, heatedly.

Fred looked sheepish. "I was hoping that if you discovered the answer by yourself, you'd throw your arms around my neck and kiss me in excitement."

"Could you please be serious!" Hermione demanded, stomping her foot.

"I am being serious," he protested. "I thought it would be the perfect ending to our first date."

"Our what?"

"Our date. Surely you are familiar with the concept; it is when two people who are interested in each other romantically do something fun together," he explained.

"This wasn't a date!" Hermione objected. "You didn't even ask me out."

"That would have ruined my entire plot to get you to kiss me," he grinned.

Hermione placed her hands on her cheeks and shook her head slowly. "If you thought I was interested in you romantically, why even bother with a plot? Why not just ask me out like a normal person?"

Fred blushed slightly and mumbled his reply.

"What?"

"I was worried you might not be the kind of girl to snog at the end of a first date," he told her, red still staining his cheeks. "But if happened on accident, it wouldn't be so awkward."

Hermione dropped her hands and took a step forward, grabbing him by his robes. "You were right," she whispered. "I'm not the kind of girl who kisses on a first date."

Before Fred could reply, Hermione had pulled him down and pressed her lips against his. "But if you can insist that this is our first date, I can claim that our time in the lab last week was our first date and that this is our second."


	28. Gone

**Title:** Gone  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 685

Hermione was awash with conflicting emotions as she crawled into bed for the evening. When she'd taken her son to Diagon Alley to purchase his first school supplies, she'd been almost as excited as him. They'd bought new robes, selected an owl, and picked up all the school books he'd need for the year. Although he'd protested when she'd slipped a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ into his bag, he'd stopped complaining after seeing his parents' names in the chapter on the Battle of Hogwarts.

They hadn't been able to return home without a stop at _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_, where to Hermione's horror, George had insisted on giving his nephew a bag full of products destined to land the lad in detention. Now in addition to worrying that her son might not make friends or do well in his classes, Hermione would have to worry about him getting expelled from the only school of magic in Britain.

With a soft sigh she cuddled deeper into the blankets on her bed. Freddie's enthusiasm about leaving for Hogwarts had finally given way to anxiety as Hermione had kissed him good-night. "What if I don't get sorted into Gryffindor, Mum?" he asked.

"Then the Sorting Hat will put you into a House better suited to your temperament."

"What makes you think my temperament isn't suited to Gryffindor?" he demanded, sounding partly frustrated and partly scared.

She had smiled in response. "Keep ithat/i attitude and you'll end up in Slytherin."

"Mum! Don't even joke about it," he'd exclaimed in horror. "Do you… do you think Dad would be disappointed if I don't end up in Gryffindor?"

"Never," Hermione had told him truthfully. "Your father would see whichever House you got sorted into as an opportunity to prank an entire new variety of wizards."

Freddie had settled down at that thought and soon after fallen asleep. Hermione wished she could do the same. She was having second thoughts about not purchasing her son a wand. Although Mr. Ollivander's wand shop had been closed for over a decade, she could have easily gone to Braintree's, the new wand maker in London, and gotten a wand particularly well suited to her son. Freddie had insisted, however, that he wanted to take his Dad's wand to Hogwarts.

Hermione shivered at the memory of how she'd ended up with the wand. Molly had wanted to bury it with Fred; she had demanded that Arthur snap it two and place it in the casket. It was George who had stopped her – George who had informed his entire family that the wand should go to his twin's child. Hermione had collapsed at his words. She and Fred had vowed not to tell anyone about the pregnancy until after the Battle of Hogwarts. They wanted to have time to explain to everyone how they'd managed to fall in love in the midst of a war. Their plans, however, had been demolished and Hermione had been left alone. Somehow George had known and he had taken the burden of informing his family from her shoulders, allowing her to grieve freely for the first time since Fred's death.

It had been a dozen years since Fred's passing, but Hermione still felt the loss deeply – she still recalled the touch of his hands and the feel of lips on her body. Hermione had poured her love for Fred into their son and was now worried that emptiness might consume her once the boy went to school.

As Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a sensation of tranquility swept over her. It was the same sensation that she had experienced numerous times since Fred's death. She liked to pretend that the calm was Fred's spirit trying to assure her that everything would work out. She knew this idea was crazy. Obviously if Fred's spirit did visit, it would be rowdy and amusing, rather than peaceful. Nevertheless, the serenity she felt during these times always convinced her that in her next adventure, Fred would be by her side.

And with that comforting thought, Hermione drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	29. Besting Hermione Granger

**Title:** Besting Hermione Granger  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Characters:** Fred/Hermione  
**Word Count:** 374  
**A/N:** Drabble for **inell** - Prompt: Aggressive Kiss.

Hermione stood in the doorway to the _Wheezes_ workshop drenched with water. Fred was several feet in front of her doubled-over with laughter.

"This is NOT funny, Fred Weasley!"

Before he had fully regained his breath, Fred put his hands on his hips and pitched his tone higher attempting to imitate Hermione's voice. "There is _absolutely_ no prank you could pull, Weasley, that will catch me unaware. There are simply too many defensive protections that one can cast to ever be caught by some silly practical joke!"

If Hermione hadn't been so angry, she might have flinched at having her smug words thrown back in her face. But seriously, she wasn't prepared to concede that she had been wrong. Sure, she was soaking wet, but not from any magical prank. She'd been warded and covered with enough protective charms that Voldemort himself would have had a hard time touching her. However, when she'd opened the door to Fred's back room and a glass of water balanced on the edge of the door had toppled over onto her head, she'd become a victim of a Muggle trick.

"Stop laughing," she demanded, stomping her foot and causing water to squish out of her shoe.

Her rage just made Fred laugh harder. "Admit it, Granger," he grinned. "In this test of wits, you failed and I succeeded."

Hermione marched toward him and poked him in the chest. "You know I was suspecting some kind of magical prank. This doesn't mean anything!"

"Except that you are no match for my cunning intellect," he smirked.

"You're the most exasperating, sneaky, devious, underhanded man of my acquaintance," Hermione huffed.

Fred placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, you're such a flirt, Granger."

Hermione growled in frustration, grasped the lapels of Fred's robe, and pulled his lips down to hers.

Too shocked initially to respond physically, Fred allowed Hermione to ravish his mouth with her teeth and her tongue. After several seconds, however, he regained his equilibrium and wrapped his arms around the soggy witch. He hoped desperately as Hermione broke their kiss so that she could nibble up his neck toward his ear that he wouldn't have to wait until he again bested Hermione before he got another opportunity to kiss her.


	30. Just a Girl

Title: Just a Girl  
Pairing: Fred/Hermione  
Rating: PG-13  
Words: 431  
A/N: Written for **sellthelie** in celebration of the Phelps twins' birthday. The prompt was "After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her." – Notting Hill. Set in the **freds_not_dead** universe.

"I can't believe we are having this conversation!"

"Me either."

"I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her."

"That's a load of rubbish," Fred exclaimed. "You could never be _just_ a girl. You are the woman who helped Harry Potter defeat Voldemort. You are the smartest witch of her generation. You are the person responsible for freeing House Elves. Godrick H. Gryffindor, you are going to be the next bloody Minister of Magic! You are not _just_ a girl. But _I_ am just the proprietor of a second rate joke shop."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Second rate?"

"Maybe first rate," Fred shrugged, but he still didn't look happy.

"What's really wrong, Fred? I know you don't give a piss about the rest of it."

"Damn it, Hermione. You were my little brother's first love, his soul mate, his wife! You are his widow. I _know_ he was your one true love and I can't live with the competition. I can't be second best with you. It would tear my heart out."

Hermione's eyes got wide. She took a step toward him, but did not reach out – she did not touch him – realizing that to do so would undermine everything that needed to be said. "It's true that I loved Ron with everything inside me. From the time I was a girl, I knew he was what I wanted in a man. He was my entire world for a long time."

Fred took a deep breath. He wasn't surprised by her words. They were exactly what he had expected, but it was still hard to hear them.

"Ron, however, has been gone for years. What I needed and wanted as a girl, is not what I need and want as a woman. You have come to mean to me everything that he ever did. It's different with us, easier in some ways, but you are just as essential to me as Ron ever was."

Hope flared in Fred's eyes. "I love you with my whole heart, Hermione."

Hermione now stepped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you too, Fred Weasley. And I never thought I would say that to another man."

He grinned down at her. "Are you sure you're not just saying you love me so that you'll have access to a lifetime supply of Skiving Snackboxes?"

She giggled. "No silly. I'm saying it so I won't ever have to change my monogram."

Fred laughed before bending down to kiss the woman he never thought would love him as much as he adored her.


	31. Even Trade

Title: Even Trade  
Pairing: Fred/Hermione  
Rating: PG-13  
Words: 196  
A/N: Written for **abigail89** in celebration of the Phelps twins' birthday. The prompt was "It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage." -- Raiders of the Lost Ark. Set in the **freds_not_dead** universe.

"Merlin, Parkinson, how many times do I have to tell you that I won't go out with you?"

"Why not?! What's wrong with me? I've got a great body, a fabulous personality, and loads of money. How can you keep turning down my invitations to dinner?"

Fred dropped his head into his hands. He seriously couldn't believe how hard it was to get rid of her. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson wasn't accustomed to taking 'no' for an answer. "Look, I like someone else. Besides you are a bit too worn for me."

"Who do you like?" she asked him suspiciously, obviously thinking he was lying just to get clear of her.

Fred groaned. He didn't want to answer, but he really wanted her to go away. "Hermione, alright? I like Hermione."

"Granger?!" Pansy squawked. "How can you like Granger? She is just as _worn_ as me!"

Fred swallowed a laugh, but couldn't keep the grin off his face. "It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage."

Although his cheek smarted for almost an hour after Parkinson Apparated away, Fred decided that finally getting rid of her was worth the temporary pain of her slap to his face.


	32. The End of a Bad Year

Title: The End of a Bad Year  
Ship: Fred/Hermione  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 445  
A/N: Written in celebration of Fred's birthday. Prompt by **vegetasbubble**: Bad luck to have a woman on board, too. Even a miniature one. - _Pirates of the Caribbean_. Part of the **freds_not_dead** universe.

It had been a bad year.

First, George had run off and gotten married to Fred's old girlfriend. This really wouldn't have bothered him all that much if Angelina hadn't also insisted that she and her husband now needed their own flat. They'd moved out right after the honeymoon forcing Fred to spend most of his evenings alone.

Second, Hermione had broken up with Ron after finding a pair of women's knickers mixed in with his dirty laundry. It actually might have been funny to watch Ron stammering that the knickers were his and he was just 'experimenting', if Hermione hadn't begged Fred to let her have George's old room. It just so happened that a 'depressed Hermione' also equaled an irritating, uptight, and generally dull Hermione. Fred had been forced to use his considerable entertainment skills just to wring smiles and eventually laughs from new flat mate.

Rounding out the trilogy of the year's bad events had been Fred developing a crush on said new flat mate. It had snuck up on him, so he didn't even realize he fancied her until it was too late to do anything to prevent it. The crush would have been tolerable if there were any chance the brainy brunette returned his feelings. However, despite Fred's overt flirting, Hermione never responded in any manner other than friendly affection.

His unrealized romantic longings became a nightmare of monumental proportions when Hermione offered to take him out for dinner and a drink on his birthday. She made it abundantly clear that they weren't on a date by offering to be his 'wingman' and support him as he tried to pick up a bird for the evening. In fact, she spent the entire first half of the meal pointing out attractive witches who walked into the _Leaky Cauldron_.

Things only got worse when Lee Jordon showed up at their table. Lee and Hermione got into an argument after he suggested that that it was bad luck for a bloke to have a woman as a 'wingman', even if she was petite with a relatively unimpressive rack. Fred had figuratively leapt to the defense of Hermione's 'rack' by proclaiming quite passionately that her breasts' firmness and shape more than made up for their smallish cup size. By the end of his monologue, Lee was snorting with laughter and Hermione was staring at him with wide-eyed surprise.

It had been a horribly embarrassing beginning to his new year. Still it seemed like things were finally looking up. Fred grinned at the naked, bushy-haired woman lying beside him. She smiled back, leaned toward him, and whispered "Happy Birthday" before kissing him on the lips.


	33. Flirting

Title: Flirting  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 121  
A/N: Microfic written in celebration of Fred's birthday. Prompts by **hondagirll**. Part of the **freds_not_dead** universe.

1. teased

"I can see your knickers, Granger," he teased when she wore a skirt that fell above her knees.

2. pretended

"Impossible," she responded. "I'm not wearing any."

3. watched

He couldn't take his eyes off her the rest of the day.

4. dreamed

She never would have guessed he was a leg man.

5. scolded

George scolded her for teasing his brother.

6. protected

"A girl has to protect herself from the Weasley charm somehow," Hermione shrugged.

7. learned

"So you think I'm charming," Fred smirked.

8. noticed

"And good looking."

9. questioned

"Granger, are you just taking the piss out on me?"

10. laughed

"You'll need to take me on a date to find out," she grinned broadly.


	34. Birthday Dessert

Title: Birthday Dessert  
Rating: R  
Word Count: 155  
A/N: Microfic written in celebration of Fred's birthday. Prompts by **zinne80**. Part of the **freds_not_dead** universe.

1) crumbles

Her first attempt at making his birthday cake crumbled into thousands of pieces.

2) taste

Her second attempt tasted like a flobberworm covered in unsweetened chocolate.

3) stove

Baking would be easier if Fred hadn't spelled the oven to shout in terror every time she turned it on.

4) towel

She didn't realize the kitchen towel was missing until they found in the middle of the third cake she'd made.

5) spill

He laughed so hard his butterbeer spilled.

6) whip

He argued that a cake was unnecessary since he could eat whipped cream off of her.

7) chocolate

He added chocolate sauce for a garnish.

8) belly

He started eating off her belly and worked his way down.

9) stroking

He didn't finish until she was stroking his hair absent-mindedly with a contented smile on her face.

10) telling

He told his brothers that Hermione made the best birthday dessert ever.


	35. For All the Wrong Reasons

**Title:** For All the Wrong Reasons  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 575  
**A/N(optional):** This story assumes that Fred never died in DH. EWE.

Hermione stepped out of Burrow to escape some of the noise and activity in the kitchen. What had started as a gathering to celebrate her and Ginny finishing Hogwarts had turned into an impromptu engagement party when Ron had pulled out a ring, gone down on one knee, and asked Hermione to marry him. She had been so stunned by his actions that it had taken her several seconds to find her voice and accept his proposal.

As good wishes, slaps on the back, and congratulatory hugs were passed around Hermione had watched Fred slip out of the house into the garden. When she'd followed him minutes later, he was sitting on a bench under a large oak tree, idly kicking at the garden gnomes as they scurried past. He gave her a slightly awkward smile when she sat next to him.

"Did you know Ron had planned this?" Hermione asked softly. She and Fred had grown close over the last six months after she and Ginny had begun helping out at the Wheezes' Hogsmeade shop on the weekends.

Fred shook his head. "I can't say that I'm surprised, though. Even 'ickle Ronnikins' can recognize a good thing when it is standing right in front of him."

Hermione blushed.

"What I find most astounding, however, is that you said yes."

She stiffened. "Why wouldn't I have said yes? Ron's my best friend. I care for him deeply. I'd be devastated if anything every happened to him. I can't imagine my life without him in it. Besides, this is what I've dreamed of for the last three years."

Fred shook his head again before turning to look at her. "For a smart girl, you can be incredibly stupid sometimes."

Hermione gasped. "Take that back!"

"Not a chance! I'm right. Do you know why? Because all those reasons you just listed for agreeing to Ron's proposal are all the wrong reasons to get married."

She glared at him. "And exactly what do you know about it?"

"I know that you shouldn't get married to someone just because you 'care' about them. You need to love him."

"I do love him!"

"But you aren't in love with him, are you? He's not what you think about right before falling asleep at night. He's not the first face you imagine when you wake up in the morning. He's not who invades your dreams with kisses and caresses. Godric all to hell and back, Hermione, I want my brother to be happy and he's never going to be happy once he realizes that you married the wrong Weasley!"

"What are you saying?" she asked, sitting almost frozen in shock.

"I'm saying that I'm in love with you and I'm pretty damn sure that you are in love with me. And by agreeing to marry Ron you will not only be destroying any chance of happiness between the two of us, but you'll be obliterating his happiness, as well!"

For perhaps the first time in her life, Hermione did not know how to respond. He was wrong – she didn't love him. She had never let herself think about him that way. Even when he made her laugh and told her she was brilliant and teased her for studying on her breaks, he was always Ron's brother. Ron's older, good-looking, exciting, and funny brother.

And suddenly she knew he was right and that nothing would ever be the same again.

The End


	36. Mr Granger

**Title:** Mr. Granger  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 389  
**Prompt:** Mr. and Mrs. Granger  
A/N(optional): Fred never died in DH. EWE.

Hermione Granger nearly had a breakdown the week her Famous Wizards' Card was released. First, the Daily Prophet ran a retrospective of her life that was completely and utterly inaccurate. Second, the new recruits in Magical Law Enforcement were so in awe of her accomplishments that they self-consciously bungled every case assigned to them. And third, she had been hounded constantly for autographed cards by witches and wizards between the ages of seven and one hundred and thirty. Therefore, it was with great relief that she was able to join her mother, father, and Fred for lunch at a Muggle Café next to the Thames.

It was so cathartic to spend an hour not talking about herself or her past accomplishments.

Unfortunately, as soon as she and Fred returned to Diagon Alley, a young boy around eight years old ran up and tugged on her sleeve.

"Blimey! It's really you!"

"Nice language there, mate," Fred laughed.

The boy blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled. "C-could I… Could I get an autograph, please?"

Hermione nodded, surreptitiously elbowing Fred for embarrassing the child. The boy's face split into a wide grin as she signed and handed back the chocolate frog card.

"Thanks for the autograph, Mrs. Granger. Sorry to bug you, Mr. Granger!" the boy called running off.

"Oi!" Fred called out after him. "It's Mr. Weasley. Mr. Granger is her father, you little git!"

"Does it bother you?" Hermione asked, linking her arm with his before continuing towards their flat.

"Does what bother me?"

"Does it bother you that we're married but don't share the same last name?"

"Of course not. I understand why someone so good-looking, intelligent, successful, charming, funny, and pleasant wouldn't want to give up their identity just to have the same last name as their spouse."

"That's not why I didn't change my name!" Hermione gasped. "It was because I'd already published a book under the name 'Granger', and my parents only have one child so it means a lot to them that I keep it, and really there is something slightly patriarchal about a woman taking her husband's last name just because they have vowed to spend their lives together. Besides…"

"Calm down, Luv'," Fred interrupted, flashing her that smile that made her heart pump just a little bit faster. "I was talking about me not you."


	37. Clarity

Title: Clarity  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 531  
A/N(optional): The quote, "It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy." Is from the film _My Best Friend's Wedding_. Fred didn't die in DH.

Hermione angrily sliced into the plant she was prepping for one of Wheezes' new potions.

"If you don't calm down, you'll lose a finger," George joked from the other side of the table.

"What are you on about?" Hermione huffed. "I am calm." She immediately pressed down too hard with the knife in her hand causing it to slip and knock the Honeysuckle stem she was working on off the table.

George shook his head and watched as she got down on all fours to retrieve the ingredient. "He wouldn't flirt with Greengrass if you hadn't completely shut him down," he said gently.

Hermione scrambled to her feet clutching the wayward plant in her hand and glared at him. "Fred Weasley is completely free to flirt with, date, and shag any girl he wants. He and I agreed that it was better for our friendship if we didn't get involved in a serious, exclusive relationship, while I'm working here."

"That's not the story I was told," George replied.

"Maybe your war injury is starting to affect your hearing," Hermione snapped. "I'd go to St. Mungos and get that checked out."

"I heard," George continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "that Fred wants to date only you, but when he brought it up, you freaked out and threatened to quit."

Hermione looked shaken. "Do you remember how awful Ron and I were together? He was my best friend and now we can barely be in the same room together! I couldn't stand if that happened with Fred, too."

"It won't."

She looked at him incredulously. "How can you say that?"

"Fred isn't Ron. He knows what he wants and he wants you."

She shrugged. "He says that now, but how will he feel in three weeks, three months, three years?"

"How will you feel when Daphne gets her claws into him?"

"Like I could rip her head off her tiny little neck and kick it around Diagon Alley like a Muggle football."

George chuckled.

"And if she still didn't get the picture, a nice burn hex between her thighs might teach her to keep her hands and other body parts to herself," Hermione growled.

"You know, Granger, I never suspected you'd look so attractive that shade of green."

"Huh?"

"I just find it amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy."

"I'm not jealous!"

"Of course, not. It's perfectly normal to want to rip the heads off of girls who date your friends."

Hermione sat down hard on the stool behind her. "Godric H. Gryffindor," she murmured. "I'm jealous."

George nodded.

"I don't want Fred to date anyone, else. I want him all to myself!"

"Give the girl a NEWT," George teased.

"What do I do?" she asked, looking a bit dazed.

"Go talk to him."

Hermione nodded, stood, and straightened her robes. "Should I… should I mention the head ripping?"

George shook his head. "You might caution Greengrass, though."

"I don't know. This is the sort of lesson that Daphne might remember better learning from painful first hand experience rather than from just a friendly warning," Hermione smirked before winking at George and heading into the shop to talk to Fred.

The End


	38. The Worst Couple Ever

Title: The Worst Couple Ever  
Author: drcjsnider  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 291  
A/N(optional): Fred's not dead. Written for the live journal fwhg-ldws challenge.

"We are the worst couple ever," Hermione whined, flopping onto the spare bed in Ginny's room. "We have absolutely nothing in common. He finds me boring and I think he's immature. He hates my cooking, but I despise take-away. He is the life of the party, while I'm more of a homebody. Seriously, what in the world was I thinking when I agreed to marry him?"

"You were thinking," Ginny reminded her, "that he was the sweetest, funniest, kindest, fittest, best-looking, and most intelligent bloke that you'd ever met."

A tiny smile graced Hermione's lips. "Yeah," she sighed happily. "I remember now."

0-0-0

"We are the worst couple ever," Fred complained, propping his boots on the counter. "She drags me to the theater when she knows I fancy Quidditch. She refused to let me listen to the Weird Sisters' Reunion Concert, just in case news of the Wizengamot's vote on House Elf Rights was broadcast over the wireless. She insists on wearing frumpy, drab robes even after I bought her tight fitting, low-cut dresses that really bring out the perfection of her tits. She thinks some bird named Jane Austen was the best writer who ever lived; I don't even know who that is! Nothing I do pleases her. I swear she must have taken NEWT level courses in nagging."

"While you didn't take any NEWT classes at all," George reminded him.

"Either did you!"

"True, but I can rely on my natural good looks and charm and get me through life. If you muck up your engagement with Hermione, you're going to spend the next 120 years kicking yourself for letting her go."

"Yeah," Fred nodded. "I know."

0-0-0

Hermione stared at Fred.

Fred stared back at her.

"I'm sorry."


	39. If We Kissed

Title: If We Kissed  
Author: drcjsnider  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 447  
A/N(optional): Winner of the fwhg_ldws challenge based on the song prompt: If We Kissed, by Fiona Apple.

It just wasn't done. She knew that. An upstanding widow would not date the brother of her dead husband. Even if said brother was good looking, funny, intelligent, and ridiculously successful. It would cause a scandal. The children would be embarrassed. Harry would shake his head in disapproval and Ginny would probably burst a blood vessel or two.

Hermione looked down at her wedding ring. Although Ron had been killed in an Auror accident almost two years ago, at times she still felt married to him. Thinking about dating anyone, least of all Fred Weasley, left her feeling guilty – as if she were breaking her marriage vows.

"Do you really think he'd have wanted you to be alone forever?" Fred asked her quietly.

Hermione bit her lip. In her more uncharitable moments she suspected that Ron was happy in the afterlife knowing that no one would ever fill his spot in her heart. Recently, however, she'd begun to wonder if he might be disappointed in her – ashamed at how cowardly she'd become romantically. "I'm not sure," she admitted.

"What would happen if we kissed? Do you think the entire wizarding world would collapse? Perhaps, you worry that Sirius and Dumbledore would return from beyond the veil and denounce you as a scarlet woman? No offense, luv, but I doubt that anyone besides me really gives a shite where you put your tongue."

"But how will it look? What will people say? I want to, but I'm not sure it's the right thing to do."

Fred shook his head. "You don't think I'm scared too? You leave me defenseless. I can't even make sense of this. All I know is that I don't want to pass up something wonderful based solely on fears about what others might think. I've been patient, Hermione. But now you have 30 seconds left to run away before I grab you, kiss you, and do everything in my power to make you spontaneously combust with desire."

"Maybe we could try—" Hermione began, before Fred cut off her words by pulling her into his arms and covering her lips with his. As she sank into the kiss, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself as tightly against him as possible. It felt so right and so amazing that it surely couldn't be a mistake. When Fred finally pulled back, she blinked several times to regain her equilibrium and then glared at him. "That wasn't thirty seconds."

He grinned and tightened his hands around her waist. "You speak, but I don't hear a word except 'kiss me again, Fred.'"

And when Hermione opened her mouth to protest, he did just that.


	40. The Bet

Title: The Bet  
Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Fred/Hermione  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: 520  
A/N(optional): George not Fred died in DH.

I couldn't believe I lost her. It wasn't permanent, but it wasn't good.

It was supposed to be just a joke. A little bet to make the afternoon a bit more exciting. Had I won, Fred would have been forced to give me free reign at the Wheezes. Anything I wanted to test, any joke I wanted to create, Fred wouldn't have been able to veto it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Fred wasn't supposed to win – not at wizard chess.

"How could you?" Hermione had exclaimed when she found out I had bet Fred a date with her and then lost the game. "I'm not your possession to be raffled off whenever it strikes your fancy!"

"Not a raffle! It was a bet I couldn't lose! Fred never beats me at chess."

Hermione's eyes had narrowed. "Obviously he does. I refuse to go along with this insanity."

"But... but you MUST go! Otherwise, I'll look like a welsher. No one will trust my word again. Everyone will think that I'm a dishonorable man."

"That surely isn't your biggest concern?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"What else would I be worried about?" I'd replied, so anxious about not fulfilling my manly obligation that I'd completely ignored all the other potential hazards.

"You should be worried that Hermione might hex your bits off. You should be worried that Mum will find out and send you a Howler. You should be worried that after spending one evening with me, Hermione won't want to come back to you," Fred answered, stepping out of the backroom.

"Stuff it," I said, before turning back to Hermione. "Please, go out with him just this one time. I'll promise never to bet you again."

Before Hermione could answer, Fred spoke up. "Granger, you can back out if you want. I've been practicing for weeks for that win, but I don't want to force you to do something you'd find uncomfortable."

Hermione just stared at him and I waited for her to take him up on the offer. Instead, she shocked the shite out of me. "Do you really want to take me to dinner?"

Fred nodded, a lop-sided grin crossing his face.

That was the point I really started to worry.

"Okay," she stated softly, smiling back at him. "Let me just pop by my flat and change."

"Great! I'll pick you up in 20 minutes. Wear something red and low-cut!"

"Oi," I exclaimed, drawing Hermione's attention back to me. "I've changed my mind. I refuse to allow you to go!"

"Refuse?" she asked, icily.

"Ur… yes."

Hermione's jaw clenched, she turned away from me, and nodded at Fred. "I'll see you in 20 minutes." With a pop, she Apparated away.

"You bloody prat!" I shouted at Fred.

He just smiled wider, winked at me, and headed up the stairs to our flat. "No time to chat now, Ronnie! I'll fill you in on all the intimate details when I get home."

I was seething. I was frustrated. I was jealous. But most of all, I couldn't believe – I refused to believe – that I'd lost her.


	41. Something Important

Title: Something Important  
Rating: G  
Word Count: 286

Fred Weasley was content. He had a job he loved, his family was safe and healthy after years of living in fear of Voldemort, and he had finally come to terms with the fact that he would never be with the only woman who had ever made his heart leap. Undoubtedly, other men would have gone into a depression upon such a realization, but Fred, who always saw his glass half-full and preferred to laugh than to cry, simply smiled softly when he thought about what could have been.

And then miraculously one day, the girl was unattached and was voluntarily spending time at the Wheezes. Fred's heart soared, not just because his chance of having a romantic relationship with her had improved, but also because he was now near her more often. He could freely revel in her smiles, insights, and laughter. When she visited the shop, he would tease her. It became his personal mission to make her blush. He admired how she teased him in return, rarely backing down from his most outlandish proclamations or daring stunts.

Before long his brothers and friends were giving him grief about 'being in looooooove.' They made kissy noises behind his back and doodled hearts filled with her initials on his parchment. He didn't get angry or embarrassed. He just shook his head and grinned, refusing to admit anything until he'd told her.

"It makes me nervous when I catch you smiling to yourself like that," Hermione said, as she walked into the shop one day.

"You should be nervous," he responded, his lips curving up even more at the thought of her reaction to his declaration. "Come over here. I have something important to tell you."


	42. Bravery

**Title:** Bravery  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 615  
**A/N(optional):** Fred didn't die in DH. Winning entry for the fwhg_ldws challenge.

"Did you know that four out of every five Howlers are sent by women?"

Hermione glanced up from her book. "Well aren't you a font of useless facts today."

"Don't you find it interesting that women use that form of communication as means of expressing their displeasure more than men?"

"Not really. I mean it's hardly surprising that women would choose to avoid direct confrontations. Society encourages girls to repress their emotions, to be 'nice' to everyone, and to not raise their voices. Eventually all those bottled up feelings are going to come spilling out."

"Have you ever?"

"What?"

"Spilled your emotions out in a Howler?"

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "You did see me and Ron interact at some point over the last decade, right?"

Fred nodded.

"Then you know I don't have any problems expressing my emotions."

He smiled. "Well, you have no trouble expressing your anger, but what about other emotions?"

"Like what?" she asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Fear? How'd you react when you had to ride on the back of Buckbeak or a Thestral?"

She gave a little grimace. "I wasn't thrilled. However, I didn't let it overcome me."

"So you are generally a brave woman?" Fred asked.

Hermione shrugged. "What's with the third degree?"

"I'm just curious why someone who is so brave, who has no problem overcoming her fears, and who can express her emotions verbally, has such a hard time admitting she's in love with me?"

"You're insane!" Hermione gasped, her face flushed in embarrassment.

"I don't think so, Granger. All evidence points to you being head-over heels, topsy-turvy, in love with me," Fred smirked.

Hermione shook her head. "You're mad! There is no such evidence!"

"So you don't happen to stroll into the Wheezes everyday just when it's time for my lunch break?"

"Coincidence," she replied, biting her lip.

"Is it also coincidence that you always have an extra ticket to the cinema on my night off?"

She nodded her head jerkily.

"Well, there is no way that you having my name tattooed on your bum is a coincidence," he teased.

"I do not!" Hermione protested.

Fred chuckled. "Alright, that last one was just a test. But I do know that it can't be a coincidence that the residue off your drawer full of used Daydream Charms reveals that an amazingly handsome, fit, and charming redheaded man has been the star of your fantasies."

"Maybe that man is George," Hermione managed to choke out.

"Maybe. He is incredibly good-looking. However, I'm positive the bloke of your dreams has two ears, not one."

Hermione dropped her eyes to her book and took a deep breath. She looked back at him through downcast eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

He gave a gentle smile. "I just want you to admit it."

Hermione wet her lips but remained silent.

"I feel it too, you know? I feel the thrill of being in your company, the racing heart when you enter a room, the surge of lust whenever you leave the top two buttons of your blouse undone."

Hermione giggled. "You really must work on your romantic declarations."

"Do I have a reason to?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yes. You are right. I've been a coward about admitting my feelings for you. I just didn't want to risk what we have on the mere possibility of something more."

Fred grabbed Hermione's hand and kissed her fingers. "There is minimal risk, Granger. Didn't you know that I return the affection of four out of five women who fall in love with me?"

"Fred!" she cried in mock outrage, before he silenced her with their first of many kisses.

The End


	43. When Did You Know

TITLE: When Did You Know  
RATING: PG-13  
WARNING: Sex Talk  
WORD COUNT: 285  
A/N: (not required) Fred didn't die in DH. Written for one of the dyno_drabbles July challenges.

"So when did you realize you loved me?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. "Who said I loved you?"

"Give it up, Hermione. You aren't the type of bird who goes around marrying blokes she doesn't love."

She bit her lip and stalled. "When did you realize you loved me?"

"That's easy. I knew it was love the first time you went down on me."

"Charming. That will make a beautiful story to tell our future children."

Fred grinned. "Oh, I won't tell _them_ that story. I'll tell them instead about the day I realized you just might be the woman for me."

"When was that? The first time we shagged?"

"Hermione Granger you have a dirty mind!"

"It's Hermione Weasley now."

"Oh, that's explains the dirty mind. "

"Fred…."

"I realized you might be the woman for me during sixth year when you threatened to turn George and me over to Mum if we didn't stop testing our products on first years."

"You couldn't have known then! You were angry with me."

"No, I respected you. Anyone who could keep me line was someone to pay attention to."

Hermione shook her head, but couldn't stop from grinning.

"Your turn."

"Hum… it must have been the day you gave me the daydream charm."

"Awed you with my magical brilliance did I?"

"No, that wasn't' it."

"You were impressed by my generosity then?"

"Nope."

"Amazed by business sense?"

"That wasn't it either."

"What then?"

"I'm pretty sure I felt the first stirrings of love when you leaned over to get me a box and I got a good look at your arse."

"Charming!" Fred laughed, grabbing his wife by the waist and giving her a deep, wet, kiss.

The End


End file.
